Up above the apple blossoms where the stars are shining, Free and careless wandering among the clouds he goes, Singing of his lady-love and for her pleasure twining Wreaths of Heaven flowers, violet and golden rose. In his sleep he stirs, and wakes to find his love beside him, Pours his load of Dreamland blooms before her silver feet, Takes her in his arms and as her soft brown tresses hide him Both together fare to Dreamland up the star-paved street. PRINCESS BALLADE Never a horn sounds in Sherwood to-night, Friar Tuck’s drinking Olympian ale, Little John’s wandered away from our sight, Robin Hood’s bow hangs unused on its nail. Even the moon has grown weary and pale Sick for the glint of Maid Marian’s hair, But there is one joy on mountain and dale, Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! Saints have attacked them with sacredest might, They could not shatter their gossamer mail; Steam-driven engines can never affright Fairies who dance in their spark-sprinkled trail. Still for a warning the sad Banshees wail, Still are the Leprechauns ready to bear Purses of gold to their captors for bail; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! Oberon, king of the realms of delight, May your domain over us never fail. Mab, as a rainbow-hued butterfly bright, Yours is the glory that age cannot stale. When we are planted down under the shale, Fairy-folk, drop a few daffodils there, Comfort our souls in the Stygian vale; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere. L’ENVOI White Flower Princess, though sophisters rail, Let us be glad in faith that we share. None shall the Good People safely assail; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! LULLABY FOR A BABY FAIRY Night is over; through the clover globes of crystal shine; Birds are calling; sunlight falling on the wet green vine. Little wings must folded lie, little lips be still While the sun is in the sky, over Fairy Hill. Sleep, sleep, sleep, Baby with buttercup hair, Golden rays Into the violet creep. Dream, dream deep; Dream of the night-revels fair. Daylight stays; Sleep, little fairy child, sleep. Rest in daytime; night is playtime, all good fairies know. Under sighing grasses lying, off to slumber go. Night will come with stars agleam, lilies in her hand, Calling you from Hills of Dream back to Fairyland. Sleep, sleep, sleep, Baby with buttercup hair; Golden rays Into the violet creep. Dream, dream deep; Dream of the night-revels fair. Daylight stays; Sleep, little fairy child, sleep. A DEAD POET Fair Death, kind Death, it was a gracious deed To take that weary vagrant to thy breast. Love, Song and Wine had he, and but one need-- Rest. THE MAD FIDDLER