Now are the bridals of the leafy wood,
O'er dusky brooks the golden sunbars fall,
Birds fan the moonbeams in the balmy dark—
Look me! the banners of the holy rood
Shake in the battle's roar; sweet duty's call
Wings all my spirit like a soaring lark.
[MAY'S FAIRY TALE.]
Under the yellow chestnut tree
The children played right merrily.
From leafy gold came pattering down
The prickly burs with nuts of brown.
"I do believe," said bright-eyed May,
"We're pelted by some startled fay!
For fairies love no tree so well
As chestnut broad in which to dwell."
"Tell us a fairy tale," they said,
"A fairy tale," they eager pled,
"About the fairies of to-day!"
And circled round the wise-eyed May.