The Fairy Child
by
Lord Dunsany
From the low white walls
and the church's steeple,
From our little fields
under grass or grain,
I'm gone away to
the fairy people.
I shall not come
to the town again.
You may see a girl
with my face and tresses,
You may see one come
to my mother's door
Who may speak my words
and may wear my dresses,
She will not be I,
for I come no more.
I am gone, gone far with
the fairies roaming.
You may ask of me
where the herons are
In the open marsh where
the snipe are homing,
Or when no moon lights
nor a single star,
On stormy nights when
the streams are foaming
And a hint may come
of my haunts afar,
With the reeds my floor
and my roof the gloaming,
But I come no more
into Ballynar.
Ask Father Ryan
to read no verses
To call me back,
for I am this day
From blessings far,
and beyond curses.
No heaven shines
where we ride away.
At speed unthought
of in all your stables,
With the gods of old
and the sons of Finn,
With the queens that
reigned in olden fables
And kings that won
what a sword can win.
You may hear us
streaming above your gables
On nights as still
as a planet's spin;
But never stir from
your chairs and tables
To call my name.
I shall come not in.
For I am gone to
the fairy people,
Make the most of
that other child
Who prays with you
by the village steeple.
I am gone away to
the woods and wild.
I am gone away
to the open spaces,
And wither riding
no man may tell;
But I shall look
upon all your faces
No more in Heaven
or Earth or Hell.
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