The children were glad; it was lonely To play on the hill-side by day. "But now," they said, "we have only To go where the good people stray." For all the hill-side was haunted By the faery folk come again; And down in the heart-light enchanted Were opal-coloured men. They moved like kings unattended Without a squire or dame, But they wore tiaras splendid With feathers of starlight flame. They laughed at the children over And called them into the heart: "Come down here, each sleepless rover: We will show you some of our art." And down through the cool of the mountain The children sank at the call, And stood in a blazing fountain And never a mountain at all. The lights were coming and going In many a shining strand, For the opal fire-kings were blowing The darkness out of the land. This golden breath was a madness To set a poet on fire, And this was a cure for sadness, And that the ease of desire. And all night long over Eri They fought with the wand of light And love that never grew weary The evil things of night. They said, as dawn glimmered hoary, "We will show yourselves for an hour;" And the children were changed to a glory By the beautiful magic of power. The fire-kings smiled on their faces And called them by olden names, Till they towered like the starry races All plumed with the twilight flames. They talked for a while together, How the toil of ages oppressed; And of how they best could weather The ship of the world to its rest. The dawn in the room was straying: The children began to blink, When they heard a far voice saying, "You can grow like that if you think!" The sun came in yellow and gay light: They tumbled out of the cot, And half of the dream went with daylight And half was never forgot. --July 15, 1896 The Chiefs of the Air Their wise little heads with scorning They laid the covers between: "Do they think we stay here till morning?" Said Rory and Aileen. When out their bright eyes came peeping The room was no longer there, And they fled from the dark world creeping Up a twilight cave of air. They wore each one a gay dress, In sleep, if you understand, When earth puts off its grey dress To robe it in faeryland. Then loud o'erhead was a humming As clear as the wood wind rings; And here were the air-boats coming And here the airy kings. The magic barks were gleaming And swift as the feathered throng: With wonder-lights out-streaming They blew themselves along. And up on the night-wind swimming, With pose and dart and rise, Away went the air fleet skimming Through a haze of jewel skies.