DUNSLEY GLEN
There is no road to Dunsley Glen,
I should not know the way again
Because the fairies took me there,
Down by a little rocky stair—
A little stair all twists and turns,
Half hidden by the spreading ferns.
High overhead the trees were green,
With little bits of blue between,
So high that they could see, I'm sure,
Beyond the wood, beyond the moor,
The water many miles away
Mistily shining in the bay.
Deep in the glen a streamlet cool
Ran down into a magic pool,
With mossy caverns all about
Where fairies fluttered in and out;
Their sparkling wings and golden hair
Made dancing twinkles here and there.
I stood and watched them at their play
Until I dared no longer stay;
I knew that I might seek and seek
On every day of every week
Ere I should find the place again—
There is no road to Dunsley Glen.