And flirting butterflies, pearly white,
Left the flowers for a new delight,
Left their loves for the fairies' sake,
And fluttered dizzily in their wake.
Over the swaying grass they swept,
Over the hedgerow soared and leapt,
Broke and scattered in golden spray,
Gleamed and glittered—and melted away.
THE ISLAND
I know an island in a lake,
Green upon waters grey;
It has a strange enchanted air;
I hear the fairies singing there
When I go by that way.
They guard their hidden dwelling-place
With bands of stalwart reeds,
But sometimes, by a happy chance,
I see them all come out and dance
Upon the water-weeds.
One night, one summer night, I know
Suddenly I shall wake,
And very softly hasten down
And out beyond the sleeping town
To find my fairy lake.
I shall not need to seek a boat,
It will be moored, I think,
Within a tiny pebbled bay
Where meadow-sweet and mallow sway
Close to the water's brink.
The moon from shore to shadowy shore
Will make a shining trail,
And I shall sing their fairy song
As joyfully I float along—
I shall not need a sail.
And peering through a starlit haze
I presently shall see,
Where swift the waiting reeds unclose,
The fairies all in rows and rows
Waiting to welcome me.