If fairies but lived in this world of ours,
And all the wild legends about them were true;
If they but possess'd such magical pow'rs
That for mortals whatever they will'd they might do;
Oh! would not I seek by each crystal fount,
Through every untrodden wild grassy dell--
'Midst forest glade, or on flowery mount,
For the spot where the fairies loved to dwell!
And if by the clear moon's glancing rays
I might chance their glittering forms to spy,
I would not stand trembling afar off to gaze,
But to their bright circle would venture nigh.
And there, while from acorn-cups they were quaffing
The nectar distill'd on the dewy green,
Or, with "nimble feet," tripping and laughing,
My eyes would seek for the fairy Queen.
And know her I should by her robe lightly flowing--
Of carnation and primrose leaves 'tis composed--
And the tiny crown on her fair brow glowing,
And the violet throne where she reposed.
"A boon, oh! a boon, bright Queen!" I would cry.
"Not for beauty I ask that might never decline,
Nor gold; no--nor jewels to dazzle the eye;
I but ask that contentment may ever be mine."
