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Updated: June 25, 2025
The mother was to take the glowing log out of the fire and bury it in the garden, and her child would live as long as it remained unconsumed. The mother buried the log, and the child grew up, became a beauty, and married the prince of the faeries, who came to her at nightfall.
The Faeries agreed that the reception must be all over now and that the last of the inhabitants had come and gone; so they were ready for sport. They did not know how should they? that the Earth worm was on the way; but he never reached the place in time; he was so blind that he lost the road frequently. Room was now made for a dance.
No matter what one doubts one never doubts the faeries, for, as the man with the mohawk Indian on his arm said to me, "they stand to reason." Even the official mind does not escape this faith. A little girl who was at service in the village of Grange, close under the seaward slopes of Ben Bulben, suddenly disappeared one night about three years ago.
The Daddy-long-legs cleared the way to the door of the house, and the band of Crickets played their sweetest air 'twas the Birth of the Daisy in fact. Arrived at the door the Daddy-long-legs took their place in lines upon each side of the step, and the Cricket band sate upon the scraper, for these might not enter. But the Faeries preceded by their Queen did enter, and their gifts went with them.
Next to him stood some bread and cheese, a little bottle full of ether and a box of powders. When I had explained my business he grew very angry. "Man, don't bother me with such rot!" he cried. "Faeries and elves and ideas and the devil knows what that's all played out. That's worse than iambics. Go hang, you idiot, and don't disturb me."
When her son, who was then a baby, had grown up he received word in some way, not handed down, that his mother was glamoured by faeries, and imprisoned for the time in a house in Glasgow and longing to see him. Glasgow in those days of sailing-ships seemed to the peasant mind almost over the edge of the known world, yet he, being a dutiful son, started away.
One night when passing through the Hospital Lane, he saw what he supposed at first to be a tame rabbit; after a little he found that it was a white cat. When he came near, the creature slowly began to swell larger and larger, and as it grew he felt his own strength ebbing away, as though it were sucked out of him. He turned and ran. By the Hospital Lane goes the "Faeries Path."
If we could love and hate with as good heart as the faeries do, we might grow to be long-lived like them. But until that day their untiring joys and sorrows must ever be one- half of their fascination. Love with them never grows weary, nor can the circles of the stars tire out their dancing feet.
In 1627 was published the second volume of his poems, containing the battle of Agencourt, in stanzas of eight lines. The mysteries of Queen Margaret in the like stanzas. Nymphidia, or the Court of Faeries. The Quest of Cynthia, another beautiful piece, both reprinted in Dryden's Miscellanies.
They came into the room where little Janet lay. The House-Faeries were already there with hushed movements and ordering everything about the room. Around the bed gathered the hosts of Faeries even the Faeries of the stream were there, a little drier than usual, though the House-Faeries made them keep on the outer circle. The Queen was in the centre directly over little Janet.
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