No sour note its beauty marred;
I heard the music from afar
And hastened in the orchard night
To dancing candles of fox-fire light,
Where the heavy moon cast silver globes
Upon rings of mushrooms glistening fair
For faerie folk that held court there
Amid the drops of swirling light
In gossamer and cobweb-robes.
Faster and faster the fiddlers played,
Dancing within the enchanted glade.
Round and round the faeries whirled
And in the moonlight madly twirled
To the skirling of their magic song.
The apple trees waved with breeze
By mortals unfelt through autumn leaves
Until, slow-rising there came the dawn,
And with the night the host was gone.
In the orchard’s new-day glow,
I heard the music far below.
I heard the sound of dancing fair,
And wished aloud that I were there.
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