THE VANISHING FAERIES

Deep in the wood's recesses cool

I see the fairy dancers glide,

In cloth of gold,in gown of green,

My lord and lady side by side.

 

But who has hung from leaf to leaf,

From flower to flower, a silken twine -

A cloud of grey that holds the dew

In globes of clean enchanged wine?

 

Or stretches far from branch to branch,

From thorn to thorn, in diamond rain,

Who caught the cup of crystal pure

And hung so fair the shining chain?

 

'Tis death, the spider, in his net,

Who lures the dancers as they glide,

In cloth of gold, in gown of green,

My lord and lady, side by side.

--Dora Sigerson Shorter