Hundreds of them altogether, Flashing flocks of flying fairies, Crowding through the summer weather, Seeking where the coolest air is. And they tell the trees that know them, As upon their boughs they hover, Of the things that chance below them, How the rose has a new lover. And the roses laugh, protesting That the lilies are as fickle; Then they look where birds are nesting, And their feathers softly tickle. Then away they all go sweeping, Having had their fill of gladness, But the trees, their night-watch keeping, Feel a tender, loving sadness. For _they_ know of bleak December, When each bough to pain left bare is, When they only shall remember Those bright visitings of fairies. When the roses and the lilies Shall be gone to come back never, To a land where all so still is That they sleep and sleep for ever. PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON. SONG OF THE TWILIGHT FAIRIES. Vestal moon, vestal moon, Star of Love’s delight, Rise, and gild our festal noon— Noon of Fairy-night. Vestal moon, vestal moon, Up the golden height, Thou art rising to thy noon— We to Love’s delight. Fairies hide in cowslip bells Through the garish light; Naiads rest in purple shells, By the sea-marge bright. Fairy-Queen, appear, appear, From thy citron nest; Wake, wake! come, Sweet, for here Shines the moonlight blest. Golden Fairies in the sun Wind their elfin horn, Where the dancing streamlets run, And the Day is born. Silver fairies haunt the night When the Sun’s asleep; Azure Fays the heavenly height, ’Mid the starry sheep. Fays of Silver, Gold, and Blue Wake to Love’s delight; Drink your fill of sweet May-dew, Chase the star-flakes bright. Lo! we come, we come, we come, From the foxglove bells, Some from golden brake, and some From the asphodels. Vestal moon, vestal moon, From your golden height, Gaze through all the fairy noon On our Love’s delight. THOMAS LAKE HARRIS. FAIRIES ON THE SEA-SHORE. _First Fairy._ My home and haunt are in every leaf Whose life is a summer day bright and brief— I live in the depths of the tulip’s bower, I wear a wreath of the cistus flower, I drink the dew of the blue harebell, I know the breath of the violet well, The white and the azure violet; But I know not which is the sweetest yet, I have kiss’d the cheek of the rose, I have watch’d the lily unclose, My silver mine is the almond tree, Who will come dwell with flower and me? _Chorus of Fairies._ Dance we our round, ’tis a summer night, And our steps are led by the glow-worm’s light.