  YOU laid your slender fingers, Your fingers long and brown, Upon the pipes, and lured me Far from the stolid town. You piped me to the greenwood, And there, when grace was said, We brake and ate together The fairy’s secret bread. Oh then my ears were opened And magically I heard The small leaves talk together, The gossip of a bird. Bewitched? There is no telling: But always, till I’m dead, I’ll hear your silver piping And eat your fairy bread. |
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