so dull and drear by day,
distracted mobs rush madly on
their scheduled, pointless way
the city-roads pulse strong with "life,"
the weary work-man's lay;
but late at night, when sun is set
peeks through the land of Fae.
They think they have her conquered,
they think that she is gone
and nevermore shall echo here
the lilting faery-song.
They have with concrete her enclosed
with asphalt hid her soul.
"Now rules here the world of Men" -
the mortal's banner-pole.
But when at night they then retire
their tyrant bell-clocks set,
the faery-lights come twinkling out -
she is not vanquished yet.
The nightly-folk come traipsing out
she calls them forth to her -
they know not is it her voice
that causes them to stir.
So if you feel her haunting call
go out and walk the streets
but pay close mind to all you see -
the earth beneath your feet,
the wind that mutters soft and low -
'tis her scent lilngers there;
her spell-song weaves the magic bright,
her voice in on the air.
When passing trees so listen close;
they whisper to her tune,
and above the yellow lantern-light
her hand-maiden, the moon
smiles down knowingly on this place
as that where Fae roams free;
she knows her mistress reigneth here
as she doth in lea.
And as you walk the festive streets
watch those who pass you by;
she favors those who look for her -
and you may chance to spy
a spritely face, a pointed ear,
a footstep light and gay,
a folded wing beneath a coat -
the merry folk of Fae.
And when the dawning-light appears
so softly in the east,
they hurry home to hiding-place
to laugh o'er morning feast
While mortals rise and rush about
their kingdom small and gray,
yet while they press and hurry so
along their harried way
Those who share the faery-blood
both mortal folk and fae,
tread knowingly, with laughing smile
the mortal realm of day.