Youth by Thomas Nelson Page — Read

I once might hear the fairies sing / Upon the feathery grass a-swing, / Or in the orchard's blossoming: / Their melody so fine and clear, / One had to bend his ear to hear, / Or else the music well might pass / For zephyrs whispering in the grass.

I once might see the fairies dance / A-circle in their meadow-haunts, / Soft-tapered by the new-moon's glance: / Their airy feet in crystal shoon / Made twinklings neath the silver moon. / Such witchery, but that 't was seen, / Might well have been the dew-drops' sheen.

I've wandered far yond summer seas, / Where Music dwells mid harmonies / That well the Seraphim might please; / But never more I catch, ah me! / The fairies' silvery melody -- / Their crystal twinkling on the moonlit lea.