Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren"t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping together, Green jacket, red cap, And white owl"s feather!
Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam;Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs All night awake.
High on the hill-top The old King sits;
He is now so old and grey
He"s nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses,On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with musicOn cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights.
They stole little Bridget For seven years long;When she came down again, Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back,Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since, Deep within the lake,On a bed of flag-leaves, Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hillside, Through the mosses bare, They have planted thorn-trees, For pleasure here and there;If any man so daring As dig them up in spite,He shall find their sharpest thorns In his bed at night.
Drawn by Elsie Jean Mckissock
The Fairies
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren"t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl"s feather!
--Willam Allingham
Author.-William Allingham (1824-1889) was born in the north of Ireland. He wrote many songs, ballads, and stories.
General Notes.-How were these Irish fairies dressed? What didthey eat? What were their pets? What are Northern Lights? Have we anything like them in Australia? Why did they steal Bridget? What was their sacred bush? Why are Irish children afraid of the fairies? Mention any other fairy poems that you know. Which do you like best?
