“Of all the Spirits of land and sea,” Then rapt he murmur’d, “there’s none like thee, And oft, oh oft, may thy foot thus light In this lonely bower, sweet Mountain Sprite!” THOMAS MOORE. THE FAIRY BOY. A mother came when stars were paling, Wailing round a lonely spring; Thus she cried while tears were falling, Calling on the Fairy King: “Why with spells my child caressing, Courting him with fairy joy; Why destroy a mother’s blessing, Wherefore steal my baby boy? “O’er the mountain, through the wild wood, Where his childhood loved to play; Where the flowers are freshly springing, There I wander, day by day. “There I wander, growing fonder Of the child that made my joy; On the echoes wildly calling To restore my fairy boy. “But in vain my plaintive calling Tears are falling all in vain! He now sports with fairy pleasure, He’s the treasure of their train! “Fare thee well, my child, for ever, In this world I’ve lost my joy, But in the _next_ we ne’er shall sever, _There_ I’ll find my angel boy!” SAMUEL LOVER. THE FAIRY TEMPTER. A fair girl was sitting in the greenwood shade, List’ning to the music the spring birds made; When sweeter by far than the birds on the tree, A voice murmur’d near her, “Oh come, love, with me— In earth or air, A thing so fair I have not seen as thee! Then come, love, with me.” “With a star for thy home, in a palace of light, Thou wilt add a fresh grace to the beauty of night; Or, if wealth be thy wish, thine are treasures untold, I will show thee the birthplace of jewels and gold— And pearly caves Beneath the waves, All these, all these are thine, If thou wilt be mine.” Thus whisper’d a fairy to tempt the fair girl, But vain was his promise of gold and of pearl; For she said, “Tho’ thy gifts to a poor girl were dear, My father, my mother, my sisters are here: Oh! what would be Thy gifts to me Of earth, and sea, and air, If my heart were not there?” SAMUEL LOVER. THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON-LOW. A MIDSUMMER LEGEND. “And where have you been, my Mary, And where have you been from me?” “I’ve been to the top of the Caldon-Low, The midsummer night to see!” “And what did you see, my Mary, All up on the Caldon-Low?” “I saw the blithe sunshine come down, And I saw the merry winds blow.” “And what did you hear, my Mary, All up on the Caldon-Hill?” “I heard the drops of the water made, And the green corn ears to fill.”