The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away, While the faeries dance in a place apart, Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, Tossing their milk-white arms in the air: For they hear the wind laugh, and murmur and sing Of a land where even the old are fair, And even the wise are merry of tongue; But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, "When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, The lonely of heart is withered away!" --W. B. Yeats
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!
A faerie offers you a sword, but when you reach out to take it she mischeivously whisks it away with a laugh and a smile before flitting off into the trees.
Out in the woods is a band of some faeries They go singing and dancing at night. They're laughing and drinking, and soon you'll be thinking, that you'd come to join in their rite. If they see you, know they'll entreat you to come and join in their small friendly dance. If you do then your soul will go too; You will lose it with no second chance.
But please come, join, dance in our Circle, Our voices will make your heart yearn, To please come, join, dance in our Circle, But know that you'll never return. Meg Davis, "Dance in The Circle"
