The Fairies Farewell
FAREWELL, rewards and fairies,
Good housewives now may say,
For now foul sluts in dairies
Do fare as well as they.
And though they sweep their hearths no less
Than maids were wont to do,
Yet who of late for cleanness
Finds sixpence in her shoe?
Lament, lament, old Abbeys,
The Fairies’ lost command!
They did but change Priests’ babies,
But some have changed your land.
And all your children, sprung from thence,
Are now grown Puritans,
Who live as Changelings ever since
For love of your demains.
At morning and at evening both
You merry were and glad,
So little care of sleep or sloth
These pretty ladies had;
When Tom came home from labour,
Or Cis to milking rose,
Then merrily went their tabor,
And nimbly went their toes.
Witness those rings and roundelays
Of theirs, which yet remain,
Were footed in Queen Mary’s days
On many a grassy plain;
But since of late, Elizabeth,
And later, James came in,
They never danced on any heath
As when the time hath been.
By which we note the Fairies
Were of the old Profession.
Their songs were ‘Ave Mary’s’,
Their dances were Procession.
But now, alas, they all are dead;
Or gone beyond the seas;
Or farther for Religion fled;
Or else they take their ease.
A tell-tale in their company
They never could endure!
And whoso kept not secretly
Their mirth, was punished, sure;
It was a just and Christian deed
To pinch such black and blue.
Oh how the commonwealth doth want
Such Justices as you!
poem by Richard Corbet
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Related quotes
The Fairies
If ye will with Mab find grace,
Set each platter in his place;
Rake the fire up, and get
Water in, ere sun be set.
Wash your pails and cleanse your dairies,
Sluts are loathsome to the fairies;
Sweep your house; Who doth not so,
Mab will pinch her by the toe.
poem by Robert Herrick
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William Bond
I wonder whether the Girls are mad
And I wonder whether they mean to kill
And I wonder if William Bond will die
For assuredly he is very ill
He went to Church in a May morning
Attended by Fairies one two and three
But the Angels Of Providence drove them away
And he returnd home in Misery
He went not out to the Field nor Fold
He went not out to the Village nor Town
But he came home in a black black cloud
And took to his Bed and there lay down
And an Angel of Providence at his Feet
And an Angel of Providence at his Head
And in the midst a Black Black Cloud
And in the midst the Sick Man on his Bed
And on his Right hand was Mary Green
And on his Left hand was his Sister Jane
And their tears fell thro the black black Cloud
To drive away the sick mans pain
O William if thou dost another Love
Dost another Love better than poor Mary
Go and take that other to be thy Wife
And Mary Green shall her Servant be
Yes Mary I do another Love
Another I Love far better than thee
And Another I will have for my Wife
Then what have I to do with thee
For thou art Melancholy Pale
And on thy Head is the cold Moons shine
But she is ruddy and bright as day
And the sun beams dazzle from her eyne
Mary trembled and Mary chilld
And Mary fell down on the right hand floor
That William Bond and his Sister Jane
Scarce could recover Mary more
When Mary woke and found her Laid
On the Right hand of her William dear
On the Right hand of his loved Bed
And saw her William Bond so near
The Fairies that fled from William Bond
Danced around her Shining Head
They danced over the Pillow white
And the Angels of Providence left the Bed
I thought Love livd in the hot sun Shine
But O he lives in the Moony light
I thought to find Love in the heat of day
But sweet Love is the Comforter of Night
Seek Love in the Pity of others Woe
In the gentle relief of anothers care
In the darkness of night and the winters snow
In the naked and outcast Seek Love there
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Folklore for Children (1) and (2)
(1)
Won't you listen in my garden
to the tapping dancing feet
and the singing of the fairies
playing violins so sweet?
Won't you listen to the pixies
and the fairy queen's refrain,
songs of romance, songs of folklore
or do the fairies sing in vain?
Come and join these mystic beings
with pretty wings of fairest hue
delightful elves and friendly fairies
will sing and dance each day for you.
(2)
Down in yonder Elfin Park
Fairies play upon the swing.
Mother nature makes her mark
Saying 'au revoir' to spring.
Summertime is entering in
Fairy Queen begins to sing
No longer dark in Elfin Park
Sunbeams light the fairy ring.
Pretty Queen has lost her heart
True love to her is everything
And if we walk through Elfin Park
Bells will surely 'ting-a-ling'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Cinderella
A lonely child with toil o’ertaxed,
Sits Cinderella by the fire;
Her limbs in weariness relaxed,
And in her eyes a sad desire.
But soon a wreath is on her brow;
A bonny prince has claimed her hand;
And she’s as proud and happy now
As any lady in the land.
Ah, then to see a fairy bright,
And to have granted what you would,
You only needed to do right,
You only needed to be good.
But this was in the days of old,
When man to wiser folk would bow;
And though you were as good as gold
You’d never see a fairy now.
And yet they must have managed well
If only half the tales are true,
The wondrous tales the writers tell
Of what the fairies used to do.
But now the world has grown so wise
It does without the fairies’ aid;
And who can find a prince that tries
The shoe upon a beggar maid?
It must have been a better time
When virtue always met its due,
And “wicked men who dealt in crime”
Were punished by the fairies, too.
But never more they’ll come again
To give the good what they desire;
And Cinderellas wait in vain,
And weep beside the kitchen fire.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Rose Fairy
When God created the very first rose,
All the forest fairies were thrilled!
They formed a queue to line up for a smell,
Each swooning at its delightful fragrance.
The king of the fairies called them to his throne,
Reminding them that each flower is blessed,
With each one appointed its own fairy...
But who could they choose for the rose! ?
All the fairies not yet appointed flew near,
Each pointing to herself as the right choice!
Then the queen of the fairies calmed them down,
'Settle down, impetuous ones! ' she said...
So all the female fairies flapped their wings no more,
Settling once again upon the ground...
'Come, come! ' she scolded! 'None of you will do! '
The fairies' faces went blood red with shame!
The king looked at them in turn, loving them all.
Such enthusiasm, such devotion, but who would do?
The queen pointed directly to the king himself!
'You, Your Majesty, you must be the rose fairy! '
'What! ? ' remarked the king! 'That's unheard of! '
She held his hand with love and told him,
'There's no-one greater than you for this rose! '
The fairies leapt with joy! Flying here and there!
Doing athletics flips and backward somersaults!
When the king saw the joy of all the fairies, he smiled.
He was humbled by this wondrous spectacle
And he stood up, wiped away a tiny tear and told them,
'Never has a king been so blessed as I feel today! '
And so it was that the rose fairy was announced.
And God looked down upon the fairies in the forest
And smiled... and smiled... and smiled...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Gopies, Like, Fairies Dance
1. Let us form a ring
2. Flowers would we offer In prayer: Trust we not The strangers!
3. Jostled with Him in dance
4. Pearls for tears, They shed ! In measured steps and, rhythmic movement
5. Receptive mind's and shaky feet, He may Stabalize !
6. Bewitched by the bright lamp The butterfly O, When'll we be mad after The madman (The Lord!)
7. Bare-footed in woods in blazing heat and Blistered over---Hot roads
8. How hard is to Speak the Truth (This much) revelation Even after self -realisation The desire to probe, What else is said',
Still persists!
And dance like Fairies bright
Lord Krishana to awaken From Slumber! And dance like Fairies bright.
Solaced and soothed is He And dance like Fairies bright!
Piles of emeralds they build!
May we dance like Fairies bright.
Induce compassion in Krishna, It may! And dance like Fairies bright
Dances around and Gives its life in the dance!
And merge like it with Him.
In the ecstasy of the dance Around Him! Weary and Exhausted'ld those Krishna Bhakhta become May we dance like Fairies bright! Who has's been blessed with The Parma Ananda?
And dance like Fairies bright!
poem by Swami Parmanand
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Where Do The Fairies Go?
I was eating a fairy cake the other morn, when I thought I wonder if it's true that for every baby born, a fairy god mother is sworn.
Well now I have grown up, can I still speak to the fairies or am I just away with?
I seem to think I know they are there, but where have they gone?
I don't remember ever seeing one, what do they look like, are they pixies, elves or just plain sprite?
I have heard is possible to see, but that is only by those who believe, or is it just for those inclined spiritually?
Well my fairy cake tasted just nice. Maybe the cake is blessed by fairies, hence their name, or maybe fairies are just another bed-time story again?
poem by Steven Robinson
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They Loved One Another
THEY loved one another! young Edward and his wife,
And in their cottage-home they dwelt, apart from sin and strife.
Each evening Edward weary came from a day of honest toil,
And Mary made the fire blaze, and smiled a cheerful smile.
Oh! what was wealth or pomp to them, the gaudy glittering show,
Of jewels blazing on the breast, where heaves a heart of woe!
The merry laugh, the placid sleep, were theirs; they hated sloth,
And all the little that they had, belonged alike to both,
For they loved one another!
They loved one another; but one of them is gone,
And by that vainly cheerful hearth poor Edward sits alone.
He gazes round on all which used to make his heart rejoice,
And he misses Mary's gentle smile, he misses Mary's voice.
There are many in this chilly world who would not care to part,
Tho' they dwell together in one home, and ought to have one heart,
And yet they live! while never more those happy ones may meet;
And the echo from her home is gone of Mary's busy feet:
And they loved one another!
They loved one another! but she hath past away,
And taken with her all the light, the sunshine of his day;
And Edward makes no loud lament, nor idly sits and mourns,
But quietly goes forth at morn, and quietly returns.
The cottage now is still and dark, no welcome bids him home,
He passes it and wanders on, to sit by Mary's tomb.
Oh! weep my friends-for very sad and bitter it must be
To yearn for some familiar face we never more may see-
When we loved one another!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Oh Say. Can you see? for Friend Thad
Oh say can you see
At night, when I should be sleeping.
From my window slyly peeping
I can see the fairies dance.
I’m not afraid to take a chance
that the fairies might see me.
Because I know they are friendly.
They have no reason to fear me.
They do not mind that I can see.
Why should they mind they know quite well
there is nobody I can tell
Who would believe that I had seen
the fairies dancing on the green.
I know that grownups cannot see
what children see so easily
Though adults do not seem to mind
they do not know that they are blind.
Their childish innocence once lost
can’t be replaced at any cost.
So they dismiss as fantasy
the fairies they no longer see.
But in their blindness they insist
that fairy folk do not exist
All children in their wisdom know.
Grown ups are wrong it isn’t so.
Most adults are convinced they’re right
but some few have retained their sight.
They see the world as children see,
Accepting as reality.
the evidence of their own eyes
and you will too if you are wise.
11/04/2009
http: //.blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Fairy
Said Ann to Matilda, 'I wish that we knew
If what we've been reading of fairies be true.
Do you think that the poet himself had a sight of
The fairies he here does so prettily write of?
O what a sweet sight if he really had seen
The graceful Titania, the Fairy-land Queen!
If I had such dreams, I would sleep a whole year;
I would not wish to wake while a fairy was near.-
Now I'll fancy that I in my sleep have been seeing
A fine little delicate lady-like being,
Whose steps and whose motions so light were and airy,
I knew at one glance that she must be a fairy.
Her eyes they were blue, and her fine curling hair
Of the lightest of browns, her complexion more fair
Than I e'er saw a woman's; and then for her height,
I verily think that she measured not quite
Two feet, yet so justly proportioned withal,
I was almost persuaded to think she was tall.
Her voice was the little thin note of a sprite-
There-d'ye think I have made out a fairy aright?
You'll confess, I believe, I've not done it amiss.'
'Pardon me,' said Matilda, 'I find in all this
Fine description, you've only your young sister Mary
Been taking a copy of here for a fairy.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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The Rose
A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North,
Grew in a little garden all alone;
A sweeter flower did Nature ne'er put forth,
Nor fairer garden yet was never known:
The maidens danced about it morn and noon,
And learned bards of it their ditties made;
The nimble fairies by the pale-faced moon
Water'd the root and kiss'd her pretty shade.
But well-a-day!--the gardener careless grew;
The maids and fairies both were kept away,
And in a drought the caterpillars threw
Themselves upon the bud and every spray.
God shield the stock! If heaven send no supplies,
The fairest blossom of the garden dies.
poem by William Browne
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I Believe In Fairies
THERE ARE FAIRIES AMONG US
LIGHT ON THEIR FEET, DANCING AROUND,
WITH LITTLE FLUTTERING GREEN WINGS
THEY LIFT UP OFF THE GROUND.
THEY TOUCH OUR SHOULDERS
AS THEY SPIN AND SWIRL ABOUT,
WEARING LITTLE GOLDEN SLIPPERS
THEY CIRCLE US I HAVE NO DOUBT.
I HAVE FELT THEIR DELICATE TOUCH
AS THEY WHISPERED SOFTLY IN MY EAR,
DON'T EVER STOP BELIEVING IN FAIRIES
I KNOW THEY ARE OFTEN QUITE NEAR.
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A LIGHT MOVEMENT
HEARD A BREEZE STIR MAKING A SOFT SIGH,
I KNOW IT IS A LITTLE PRANCING FAIRY
AS SHE IS PASSING VERY CLOSE BY.
I BELIEVE IN THE MAGIC FAIRIES
FLOWERS PEDALS THEY SLEEP IN,
THEY TOUCH OUR LIVES DAILY
THEY VISIT ME AGAIN AND AGAIN.
THEY VISIT LITTLE CHILDREN WHILE THEY SLEEP
ALL THEY HAVE TO DO IS BELIEVE,
TO NOT HAVE A LITTLE FAIRY NEAR ME
I WOULD TRULY BE SAD AND GRIEVE.
ON A STROLL THROUGH THE GARDEN
WHILE THE DEW JEWELS ARE STILL THERE,
WATCH FOR THE LITTLE FAIRIES IN THEIR TINY CROWNS
TO NOT FRIGHTEN THEM - YOU MUST TAKE CARE.
poem by Aashka Thakkar
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The Fairy Dance
Down by the lake
Where the weeping willows rest
Where no-one goes
The fairies dance
At midnight
When the inky sky
Is sprinkled with stars
The fairies dance
They sit on toadstools
Wear clothes made of petals
And round the flowers
The fairies dance
On the lake
Boats made of leaves
And all around
The fairies dance
They stay till dawn
When the sun rises
But under the inky sky
The fairies dance
poem by Amy Darnbrook
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Come, Let Us Sleep and Dream
Let us sleep and dream
Let us pluck out the stars
From heaven and plant them
in the ocean of mermaids.
Let us explore the castle
of fairies and paint the
stories of their flights
in long and lonely nights.
Let us sleep and dream
Let us sleep and dream
when days leave us scars
that let us cry and scream.
Come, let us sleep and dream
knowing that in our sleep
there we find mermaids
and fairies, tending our scars
by the magic of their sweet voice
and their mystic loving hands.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Mary Queen Of Arkansas
Mary queen of arkansas, its not too early for dreamin
The sky is grown with cloud seed sown and a bastards love can be redeeming
Mary, my queen, your soft hulk is reviving
No, youre not too late to desecrate, the servants are just rising
Well Im just a lonely acrobat, the live wire is my trade
Ive been a shine boy for your acid brat and a wharf rat of your state
Mary, my queen, your blows for freedom are missing
Youre not man enough for me to hate or woman enough for kissing
The big top is for dreamers, we can take the circus all the way to the
Border
And the gallows wait for martyrs whose papers are in order
But I was not born to live to die and you were not born for queenin
Its not too late to infiltrate, the servants are just leavin
Mary queen of arkansas, your white skin is deceivin
You wake and wait to lie in bait and you almost got me believin
But on your bed mary I can see the shadow of a noose
I dont understand how you can hold ma so tight and love me so damn loose
But I know a place where we can go, mary
Where I can get a good job and start all over again clean
I got contacts deep in mexico where the servants have been seen
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancing with the fairies
Walking through the fields
I saw a fairy dancing.
The fairy was so pretty
Dancing in the moonlight.
Translucent were the wings
Majestic was her dress.
Her hair, the wind did ruffle
A melody, her lips released.
Then the fairy took notice
Of my ever present eyes.
And so she called to me
To come and dance with her.
She starts to dance once more
Leaping through the air.
I followed her and twirled
And tried to dance like her.
Then a million fairies
Suddenly did appear.
A million tiny voices
Singing a tiny harmony.
Such a magnificent sight it was
Such a lovely dance.
Their tiny bodies flitting
And dancing in the moonlight.
I jumped and leaped and twirled
Dancing with the fairies.
I danced there in the starlight
With a million pretty fairies.
Time flew by and all too soon
The sun awoke and peaked at us.
The fairies stopped their dancing
And flew away for home.
But one fairy stayed behind
She did not go to bed.
She looked at me with sparkling eyes
The wonderful dancing fairy.
I saw her eyes did twinkle
And her hair in the wind did wave.
And then she dipped a curtsy
And on her way she flew.
That little dancing fairy.
poem by Mariya Shostak
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Suffolk
A luscious land of fertile soil,
Upon which there's been years of toil,
The towns and villages appeal,
With somewhat of an old world feel,
Traditionally brewed vintage ale,
Many a bizarre quaint tale,
Out on the broads all is tranquil,
A place to be with time to kill,
Once home of witches and fairies,
Now where to live a life of ease,
A history rearing horses,
Home of the grand national races,
Brilliantly vibrant blue skies,
Folk with Anglo and Celtic ties,
A coast that glows with golden sands,
History built on the fenlands.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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The Time When I First Fell In Love
The time when first I fell in love,
Which now I must lament;
The year wherein I lost such time
To compass my content.
The day wherein I saw too late
The follies of a lover;
The hour wherein I found such loss
As care cannot recover.
And last, the minute of mishap,
Which makes me thus to plain
The doleful fruits of lover's suits,
Which labour lose in vain:
Doth make me solemnly protest,
As I with pain do prove,
There is no time, year, day, nor hour,
Nor minute, good to love.
Floral Poems of Delight
A famous poet and artist
~~Cicely Mary Barker~~
born in London eighteen ninety-five
died in London age seventy-eight
produced a very beautiful book
~~The Flower Fairies~~
Unable to attend school because
of ill-health, Cicely worked from
home, taught by a Governess...
A copy of this book was given to
me on my fifth birthday, and was
a first introduction to floral poems.
My young life was absorbed with
Flower Fairies...the Song of the
Poppy was my favourite. I recall
the words until this day. I am sure
that Cicely Mary Barker would be
delighted to see her Poppy Flower
poem brought to light after so
many years...and I quote:
The green wheat's a-growing
The lark sings on high
In scarlet silk a-glowing
Here stand I.
The wheat's turning yellow
Ripening for sheaves
I hear the little fellow
who scares the bird thieves.
Now the harvest's ended
The wheat fields are bare
But still red and splendid
I am there.
by C.M.Barker
Many thanks to the one and
only...the Late Poet and Artist
Cicely Mary Barker.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Time When I First Fell In Love
The time when first I fell in love,
Which now I must lament;
The year wherein I lost such time
To compass my content.
The day wherein I saw too late
The follies of a lover;
The hour wherein I found such loss
As care cannot recover.
And last, the minute of mishap,
Which makes me thus to plain
The doleful fruits of lover's suits,
Which labour lose in vain:
Doth make me solemnly protest,
As I with pain do prove,
There is no time, year, day, nor hour,
Nor minute, good to love.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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