i was born the boundover life-blind son of the north wind
i was sequestered amongst the centaurs
where i excelled in archery and playing the lyre
i was so lovely they incased me in pearl enamel
lest any see me and fall in love with my beauty
i strode through the sacred glades erect
i was practiced in the magic arts
and i called the dryads from their trees
you birch
and you ash
and you willow
fleetfooted daughters of wood
spirits of the groves
io io ao io
i sung them from their boles and hollows
i loved them in the noonday shade
when summer ran through the meadows
the spirits and i move under eachs tree
all the birds knew me too
and flew messages for me to distant points i would fain know
then ripples of the breeze would spread through the leaves
a world much younger than this one
oh my heart tells me of its existence
oh i was wrong to think it all meaningless
suddenly we hear music
what is that strange strange melody
a gentle sad cadence
a regular phrase played over but modulating with the dappled light
the woodland creatures prick up their ears
why this then is the real arcadia sings a voice
children rush onto the stage dressed in gossamer
tiny little wings like bees some hover slightly above the ground
little moonflower and autumnleaf and rainywings
look theres daffodil and mossy-ears and honeykiss
starpowder dumpling, and mrs grinsmiths faery…
who has ordered this gathering here in the midday sleepy sun?
i hide myself quickly in the arbours shadows
i climb a tree and i watch from the boughs
i sit cuddling a panther asleep in the leaves
she purrs like a cat and licks me with her rough tongue
sssh i whisper in her jet black ears
let us observe these faery folk below
sure enough out jumped johnny bee
and mrs tompkins chimney gnome
there was buzzer and knot and little pinky the cobweb girl
oh a woofle there she is
a fat little fairy whose tiny wings can hardly carry her aloft
and look isnt that oberon himself
dressed in the liquid green of high faery
attended by swallows and crickets and great green frogs
while cherubim swarm around his head in a cloud
a fanfare of faery brass
out from her bower steps his gracious wife
eternal queen of these stately elms and the quickening sap
mistress of the spring and elf rider
lady of the forest and mischief maker
stargazer fortuneteller lovemaker heartseeker
the panther growls softly
be quiet you feline fool
i tug her whiskers gently
i fondle her huge black cats face
i kiss her dusty fur
and she takes my hand in her mouth
and chews ever so ever so slightly
oh you bad girl i say soundlessly in the tree
below us the weird ones in the dell
in small piping voices they conduct their frolics
under canopies of sheerest spells
the lady and her consort
giggling pixies and a dour gnome
dragonflies darting errands
butterflies singing praise
they drink faery wine from tir na nog , baby
and oh, and believe me, it doth taste but goodly
in the distance lies the castle of good king stephen
not five leagues hence
where all sleep through the noon in enchantment
dark forces gather in the marshes and the fens
the night is a visitor these days
the night gives shelter to the darkness abroad
the magical stars twinkle over pink fairydust encrusted clouds
a unicorn canters on into a moonlit knoll and snorts
the lovers tiptoe across the stage at last reconciled
tomorrow we’ll be married and journey to ithaca
we’ll tell your father the duke
when we meet him by the fountain of laughing waters
in the land of alakazam
far across the green blue sea