  Never a horn sounds in Sherwood tonight, Friar Tuck’s drinking Olympian ale, Little John’s wandered away from our sight, Robin Hood’s bow hangs unused on its nail. Even the moon has grown weary and pale Sick for the glint of Maid Marian’s hair, But there is one joy on mountain and dale, Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! Saints have attacked them with sacredest might, They could not shatter their gossamer mail, Steam-driven engines can never affright Fairies who dance in their spark-sprinkled trail. Still for a warning the sad Banshees wail, Still are the Leprechauns ready to bear Purses of gold to their captors for bail; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! Oberon, king of the realms of delight, May your domain over us never fail. Mab, as a rainbow-hued butterfly bright, Yours is the glory that age cannot stale. When we are planted down under the shale, Fairy-folk, drop a few daffodils there, Comfort our souls in the Stygian vale; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere. L’ENVOI White Flower Princess, though sophisters rail, Let us be glad in faith that we share. None shall the Good People safely assail; Fairies abound all the time, everywhere! |
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