THOUGH the fairies meet by night

In the moonlit spaces,
Often in the morning light

You will see their traces ;
If you rise at early dawn

When the birds are waking,
You may find upon the lawn

Tents of fairy making.

In the meadows here and there,

Where the soft wind passes,
Elfin lines of gossamer

Stretch between the grasses ;
And if you will look about

Soon you will discover
Fairy washing hanging out

All among the clover.
In the quiet woods you might,

If your ways be wary,
Even hope to get a sight

Of a little fairy
On a lily-leaf, perchance,

Broad and smooth and level,
Practising her tiny dance

For the evening revel.