The Fairy

‘COME hither, my Sparrows,

My little arrows.

If a tear or a smile

Will a man beguile,

If an amorous delay

Clouds a sunshiny day,

If the step of a foot

Smites the heart to its root,

’Tis the marriage-ring…

Makes each fairy a king.’

So a Fairy sung.

From the leaves I sprung;

He leap’d from the spray

To flee away;

But in my hat caught,

He soon shall be taught.

Let him laugh, let him cry,

He’s my Butterfly;

For I’ve pull’d out the sting

Of the marriage-ring.