by

W. B. Yeats

    First Fairy: Afar from our lawn and our levee,
      O sister of sorrowful gaze!
      Where the roses in scarlet are heavy
      And dream of the end of their days,
      You move in another dominion
      And hang o'er the historied stone:
      Unpruned in your beautiful pinion
      Who wander and whisper alone.
    
    All: Come away while the moon's in the woodland,
         We'll dance and then feast in a dairy.
         Though youngest of all in our good band,
         You are wasting away, little fairy.
    
    Second Fairy: Ah! cruel ones, leave me alone now
      While I murmur a little and ponder
      The history here in the stone now;
      Then away and away I will wander,
      And measure the minds of the flowers,
      And gaze on the meadow-mice wary,
      And number their days and their hours--
    
    All: You're wasting away, little fairy.
    
    Second Fairy: O shining ones, lightly with song pass,
      Ah! leave me, I pray you and beg.
      My mother drew forth from the long grass
      A piece of a nightingle's egg,
      And cradled me here where are sung,
      Of birds even, longings for aery
      Wild wisdoms of spirit and tongue.
    
    All: You're wasting away, little fairy.
    
    First Fairy [turning away]: Though the tenderest roses were round you,
      The soul of this pitiless place
      With pitiless magic has bound you--
      Ah! woe for the loss of your face,
      And the loss of your laugh with its lightness--
      Ah! woe for your wings and your head--
      Ah! woe for your eyes and their brightness--
      Ah! woe for your slippers of red.
    
    All: Come away while the moon's in the woodland,
         We'll dance and then feast in a dairy.
         Though youngest of all in our good band,
         She's wasting away, little fairy.

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