Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
Poems of Fancy: II. Fairies: Elves: SpritesGarden Fairies
Philip Bourke Marston (18501887)K
Soft with shed snow my garden was, and white,
And, walking there, I heard upon the night
Sudden sound of little voices,
Just the prettiest of noises.
It seemed above me, seemed upon the ground,
Then swiftly seemed to eddy round and round,
Till I said: “To-night the air is
Surely full of garden fairies.”
That little, shining presences were there,—
White shapes and red shapes danced upon the air;
Then a peal of silver laughter,
And such singing followed after
More soft it was than call of any bird,
Note after note, exquisitely deferred,
Soft as dew-drops when they settle
In a fair flower’s open petal.
For answer, then, as from a garden’s bed,
On the cold air a sudden scent was shed,—
Scent of lilies, scent of roses,
Scent of Summer’s sweetest posies.
“We flowers, that sleep through winter, once a year
Are by our flower queen sent to visit here,
That this fact may duly flout us,—
Gardens can look fair without us.
Then must we go, oh, very far away,
And sleep again for many a long, long day,
Till the glad birds sing above us,
And the warm sun comes to love us.
Then very sweet and soft, and very low,—
A dream of sound across the garden snow,—
Came the chime of roses singing
To the lily-bell’s faint ringing.
To our winter rest we go,
Underneath the snow to house
Till the birds be in the boughs,
And the boughs with leaves be fair,
And the sun shine everywhere.
Little snow-drops press each petal.
Oh, the snow is kind and white,—
Soft it is, and very light;
Soon we shall be where no light is,—
But where sleep is, and where night is,—
Sleep of every wind unshaken,
Till our Summer bids us waken.”
Then altogether ceased; more steely blue
The blue stars shone; but in my spirit grew
Hope of Summer, love of Roses,
Certainty that Sorrow closes.