The Fairy's Prisoner
A Poem
Midnight just struck--uneasy groaned The wind through naked branch and stem Bent double, as they by prayer atoned The sins still troubling them. A lady met me by the road. Her dress shone dully in the dark, As it were spun from silk that showed A divine creator's mark. But yet I feared her--for the eye Which met mine seemed an awful blank-- As though its sight passed body by, And in the soul it sank. "Fair maid, why do you loiter here? Thick clouds have strangled every star, And every tree and bramble sere A rash of frost doth mar." She spoke--that she had silent been! Her words my fevered brain yet hold: "Would I might feel that frost again! But I know nought of cold. "Splendid looks the fairy's feast, And sweetly tastes the fairy's wine, But now I am shunned by man and beast, And the earth is no longer mine. "One night of all the livelong year My voice may be heard by living men, And my form in this fleshly guise appear, That lies within mortal ken. "Oh, shun the wine, and shun the bread That promise fair unearthly joys! If you would live, and join the dead, Beware a fairy's ploys." Darkness swallowed up her word, A veil drew where her face had been-- But my ear has ne'er her voice unheard, Nor my eye her form unseen.