Leave room in your garden for fairies to dance.
Quotes About Fairies
(Vachel Lindsay)
The Grasshopper, the Grasshopper,
I will explain to you--
He is the Brownies' racehorse,
The Fairies' Kangaroo.
(Doris I. Bateman)
I have a little rocking chair
That hides a tiny squeak somewhere;
It's quite as if some baby Elf
Were singing to his little self.
I rock and rock, so I can see
Just what he tries to say to me.
My mother says, "Good gracious, child!
That noise will surely drive me wild!"
But that's because she doesn't know
An Elf is singing down below!
(See the Grandchildren file for another rocking chair poem.)
(Rose Fyleman)
The child next door has a wreath on her hat;
Her afternoon frock sticks out like that,
All soft and frilly;
She doesn't believe in fairies at all
(She told me over the garden wall)
She thinks they're silly.
The child next door has a watch of her own;
She has shiny hair and her name is Joan;
(Mine's only Mary).
But doesn't it seem very sad to you
To think that she never her whole life through
Has seen a fairy?
(Robert Graves)
Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their heart's desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they're seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two strong ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild--
I'd love to be a Fairy's child.
(Valine Hobbs)
One day when we went walking,
I found a dragon's tooth,
A dreadful dragon's tooth.
"A locust thorn," said Ruth.
One day when we went walking,
I found a brownie's shoe,
A brownie's button shoe.
"A dry pea pod," said Sue.
One day when we went walking,
I found a mermaid's fan,
A merry mermaid's fan.
"A scallop shell," said Dan.
One day when we went walking,
I found a fairy's dress,
A fairy's flannel dress.
"A mullein leaf," said Bess.
Next time that I go walking--
Unless I meet an elf,
A funny, friendly elf--
I'm going by myself!
If you see a fairy ring
In a field of grass,
Very lightly step around,
Tip-toe as you pass,
Last night fairies frolicked there
And they're sleeping somewhere near.
If you see a tiny fairy,
Lying fast asleep
Shut your eyes
And run away,
Do not stay to peek!
Do not tell
Or you'll break a fairy spell.
(Rose Fyleman)
Please be careful where you tread,
The Fairies are about,
Last night when I had gone to bed,
I heard them creeping out.
And wouldn't it be a dreadful thing
To do a fairy harm?
To crush a little delicate wing,
Or bruise a tiny arm?
They're all about the place, I know,
So do be careful where you go.
(Queenie Scott-Hopper)
I never quite saw fairy folk
A-dancing in the glade,
Where, just beyond the hollow oak,
Their broad green rings are laid;
But, while behind that oak I hid,
One day I very nearly did!
I never quite saw mermaids rise
Above the twilight sea.
When sands, left wet, 'neath sunset skies,
Are blushing rosily:
But all alone, those rocks amid
One day I very nearly did!
I never quite saw Goblin Grim,
Who haunts our lumber room
And pops his head above the rim
Of that oak chest's deep gloom:
But once when mother raised the lid
I very, very nearly did!
(Rose Fyleman)
Have you watched the fairies
when the rain is done,
Spreading out their little
wings to dry them in the sun?
I have, I have!
Isn't it fun?
Have you heard the fairies
all among the limes
Singing little fairy tunes
to little fairy rhymes?
I have, I have,
Lots and lots of times!
Have you seen the fairies
dancing in the air
And dashing off behind the stars
to tidy up their hair?
I have, I have,
I've been there!
Fairy tales for those who believe,
are not a tale at all.
They are whispered to us in our dreams,
by fairies one and all.
(William Butler Yeats)
Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the disheveled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.
(William Allingham, published in 1850)
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 owls 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 owls feather!