Information Faery Poetry

Ingredients

Belief in the Fae.

Description

These are various poems written about faeries.

Spell Casting

"The land of faery,
Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,
Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue."
- William Butler Yeats

*~*~*~*

Come - gather near to the smoldering fire
The embers, aflame, will console and inspire!
Sit in the glade when the faery muse comes -
Magick is made with the flick of our tongues!

Oh! dance with the Sidhe under silvery moon!
Word woven trance is the light of their boon!
Bear ye the hearts of all mortal men -
Dance with the fey in the boughs of Green Glen!

-Ferrashynn

*~*~*~*

The Child and the Faeries

Author~ Unknown

The woods are full of faeries!
The trees are all alive;
The river overflows with them,
See how they dip and dive!
What funny little fellows!
What dainty little dears!
They dance and leap, and prance and peep,
And utter fairy cheers!

I'd like to tame a fairy,
To keep it on a shelf,
And dress its little self.
I'd teach it pretty manners,
It always should say "please",
And then you know I'd make it sew,
And curtsey with its knees!

*~*~*~*

Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen!
Saw but the fairy pageant,
The Fairy's frame was slight--yon fibrous cloud,
As that which, bursting from the Fairy's form,
The Fairy Queen descended,
FAIRY, FAIRY, FAIRY
'I am the Fairy MAB: to me 'tis given
The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;
Within the Fairy's fane.

~W.B. Yeats

*~*~*~*

The Fairy and the Spirit

Percy B Shelley

Come faeries, take me out of this dull world,
for I would ride with you upon the wind
and dance upon the mountains like a flame

*~*~*~*

Song of Fairies Robbing an Orchard

by Leigh Hunt

We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.

When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing.


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