<h2><SPAN name="THE_FAIRIES" id="THE_FAIRIES"></SPAN>THE FAIRIES</h2>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">We daren't go a-hunting<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And white owl's feather!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Down along the rocky shore<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Some make their home,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They live on crispy pancakes<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of yellow tide-foam;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Some in the reeds<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of the black mountain lake,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">With frogs for their watch-dogs,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">All night awake.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">High on the hill-top<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The old King sits;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">He is now so old and gray<br/></span>
<span class="i0">He's nigh lost his wits.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">With a bridge of white mist<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Columbkill he crosses,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">On his stately journeys<br/></span>
<span class="i0">From Slieveleague to Rosses;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Or going up with music<br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></SPAN>[13]</span>
<span class="i0">On cold starry nights,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">To sup with the Queen<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of the gay Northern Lights.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">They stole little Bridget<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For seven years long;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">When she came down again<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Her friends were all gone.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They took her lightly back,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Between the night and morrow,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They thought that she was fast asleep,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But she was dead with sorrow.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They have kept her ever since<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Deep within the lake,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">On a bed of flag-leaves,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Watching till she wake.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">By the craggy hill-side,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Through the mosses bare,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They have planted thorn-trees<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For pleasure here and there.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Is any man so daring<br/></span>
<span class="i0">As dig them up in spite,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">He shall find their sharpest thorns<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In his bed at night.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></SPAN>[14]</span>
<span class="i0">We daren't go a-hunting<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And white owl's feather!<br/></span></div>
</div>
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