Nor scream can raise, nor prayer can any say,
But wild, wild the terror of the speechless three;
For they feel fair Anna Grace drawn silently away,
By whom, they dare not look to see.
They feel their tresses twine with her parting locks of gold,
And the curls elastic falling, as her head withdraws;
They feel her sliding arms from their trancèd arms unfold,
But they dare not look to see the cause.
For heavy on their senses the faint enchantment lies,
Through all that night of anguish and perilous amaze;
And neither fear nor wonder can open their quivering eyes,
Or their limbs from the cold ground raise.
Till out of night the earth has rolled her dewy side,
With every haunted mountain and streamy vale below;
When, as the mist dissolves in the yellow morning tide,
The maidens’ trance dissolveth so.
They fly, the ghastly three, as swiftly as they may,
And told their tale of sorrow to anxious friends in vain—
They pined away and died within the year and day,
And ne’er was Anna Grace seen again.
FAIRY DAYS
BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
Beside the old hall fire, upon my nurse’s knee,
Of happy fairy days, what tales were told to me!
I thought the world was once all peopled with princesses,
And my heart would beat to hear their loves and their distresses.
And many a quiet night, in slumber sweet and deep,
The pretty fairy people would visit me in sleep.
I saw them in my dreams come flying east and west;
With wondrous fairy gifts the newborn babe they blessed.
One has brought a jewel, and one a crown of gold,
And one has brought a curse, but she is wrinkled and old.
The gentle queen turns pale to hear those words of sin,
But the king, he only laughs, and bids the dance begin.