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RHYS AT THE FAIRY DANCE
- RHYS and David hastened home,
- For the night was well‐nigh come,
- And their tired and heavy tread
- Woke the birds who’d gone to bed.
- The tired moon leaned on the hill,
- Tired, the soft wind had grown still,
- Bats and beetles were about,
- And the stars peeped shyly out,
- When Rhys stopped and said, “Why, hark!
- Who is singing like a lark?
- Listen! for more joyful things
- Never woke from fiddle‐strings!
- “It were madness to pass by
- Such a sweet festivity.
- Dance I must, and dance I will—
- Go you, David, up the hill!”
- “Stay!” cried David, struck with fear,
- “There’s no music in my ear—
- I hear nothing but the call
- Of you valley’s waterfall!”
- Ah! too late, poor Rhys was gone;
- David shouted, but went on.
- When in bed, uneasy dreams
- Crossed his sleep with evil gleams.
- David saw Rhys all that night
- Dancing by a shady light,
- Dancing while he seemed to sing,
- Dancing in a fairy ring!
- Crowds of little folk were there—
- (Strange their faces, wild their hair)—
- Singing, dancing hand‐in‐hand,
- As they do in fairyland!
- David woke from sleep at last,
- But his wild dreams held him fast;
- So he dressed and hastened out,
- Hoping to see Rhys about.
- Carefully he searched the hill,
- Thinking Rhys might lie there still,
- Sleeping under hedge or wall.
- There was no sign of him at all!
- But they found a ring of grass,
- Green as mountain‐ash it was,
- And the mark of tiny heels
- Showed where elves had trod their reels!
- Though many a year has passed away,
- None have seen Rhys since that day!
- Does he dance and does he sing
- For ever in a Fairy Ring?
