THE STORY FEELERS

 

FIRST NIGHT
The Fairies

When crisp October’s on the wane,

When chill November comes again,

When shadows lengthen on the hill

And winter nights grow damp and chill;

The fires give forth both light and cheer,

And village gossips will appear,

Reciting tales we love to hear:

For ’tis in winter ghosts abound,

In winter fairy tales go round.

Each nook conveys a sense of gloom,
Each ruin has a haunted look;

Each cave is an enchanted room,
By all things else than ghosts forsook.

Don’t wonder then if our discourse

Will treat of all that stfange concourse—
Of fairies, giants, gnomes;

Of witches, goblins, sprites morose,
That haunt abandoned homes.

Of the grim pooka’s dread approach
Be sure to take good heed;

Of Will o’ the Wisp, the headless Coach,
That runs with reckless speed.

The elves come tripping o’er the heath
When midnight hour is near;

The banshee’s wail forebodes the death
Of some friend we hold dear.

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