You ask me why I wandered wide

When Summer sighed o'er dying June?—

To see the Fairy People ride

Beneath the moon.

Wild poppies hedged a hawthorne copse,

Where glow-worms hung dim lamps of gold;

A sudden whisper bowed their tops,

And then, behold!

Between the poppies and the mead

I saw the Fairies riding down:

One fair-faced Fairy in the lead

Crowned with a crown.

The night was ringing with their reins,

So loud the cricket hushed its song;

Bells up and down their horses' manes

Swung sweet along.

And as their bridles chiming swung,

The night seemed cured of every qualm;

And my sick heart, so wild of tongue,

Was almost calm.

The steeds they rode were fairy steeds,

Of filmy form and gossamer green;

And every elf was clad in weeds

Of silken sheen.

Above, a beam of silver light

Beat time to their wild fairy tune,

And danced and glanced,—an elfin white

Not of the moon.

They were so small the harebell's blue

Had helmeted each tiny head,

Save that fair Fay, who, tall as two,

The Fairies led.

Dark tresses floated from a tire

Of diamond sparks that snapped with light;

I would have thrown me at her feet

And told her of my grief and pain;

And she, perhaps, had helped me meet

My love again.

Alas! a cock crew far away,

A long-necked cry; and, swift as thought,

The Elf-Queen and her company

Passed into naught.