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Rhymes for the Young Folk

William Allingham

William Allingham

Rhymes for the Young Folk

THE FAIRIES

Up the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore

Some make their home,

They live on crispy pancakes

Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain-lake,

With frogs for their watch-dogs,

All night awake.

High on the hill-top

The old King sits;

He is now so old and gray

He's nigh lost his wits.

With a bridge of white mist

Columbkill he crosses,

On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses;

Or going up with music

On cold starry nights,

To sup with the Queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again

Her friends were all gone.

They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow,

They thought that she was fast asleep,

But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lake,

On a bed of flag-leaves,

Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hill-side,

Through the mosses bare,

They have planted thorn-trees

For pleasure here and there.

Is any man so daring

As dig them up in spite,

He shall find their sharpest thorns

In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

THE ELF SINGING

An Elf sat on a twig,

He was not very big,

He sang a little song,

He did not think it wrong;

But he was on a Wizard's ground,

Who hated all sweet sound.

Elf, Elf,

Take care of yourself!

He's coming behind you,

To seize you and bind you,

And stifle your song.

The Wizard! the Wizard!

He changes his shape

In crawling along,

An ugly old ape,

A poisonous lizard,

A spotted spider,

A wormy glider,

The Wizard! the Wizard!

He's up on the bough,

He'll bite through your gizzard

He's close to you now!

The Elf went on with his song,

It grew more clear and strong,

It lifted him into air,

He floated singing away,

With rainbows in his hair;

While the Wizard-worm from his creep

Made a sudden leap,

Fell down into a hole,

And, ere his magic word he could say,

Was eaten up by a Mole.

THE FAIRY KING

"High on the hill-top

The old King sits;

He is now so old and gray

He's nigh lost his wits."

The Fairy King was old.

He met the Witch of the Wold.

"Ah ha, King!" quoth she,

"Now thou art old like me."

"Nay, Witch!" quoth he,

"I am not old like thee."

The King took off his crown,

It almost bent him down;

His age was too great

To carry such a weight.

"Give it here!" she said,

And clapt it on her head.

Crown sank to ground;

The Witch no more was found.

Then sweet spring-songs were sung,

The Fairy King grew young,

His crown was made of flowers,

He lived in woods and bowers.

CHORUS OF FAIRIES

Golden, golden,

Light unfolding,

Busily, merrily, work and play,

In flowery meadows,

And forest shadows,

All the length of a Summer day!

All the length of a Summer day!

Sprightly, lightly,

Sing we rightly,

Moments brightly hurry away;

Fruit-tree blossoms,

And roses' bosoms, —

Clear blue sky of a Summer day!

Dear blue sky of a Summer day!

Springlets, brooklets,

Greeny nooklets,

Hill and Valley, and salt sea-spray,

Comrade rovers,

Fairy lovers, —

All the length of a Summer day

All the livelong Summer day!

ROBIN REDBREAST

Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!

For Summer's nearly done;

The garden smiling faintly,

Cool breezes in the sun;

Our Thrushes now are silent,

Our Swallows flown away, —

But Robin's here, in coat of brown,

With ruddy breast-knot gay.

Robin, Robin Redbreast,

O Robin dear!

Robin