"Oh to find a fairy ring!"
That is what I loved to sing!
Here up on the broken ground,
Past the pine-wood's purple gaps,
Whitening all the grass around,
Peep the pearly mushroom-caps!
Twenty-seven pink and sweet,
In a ring you couldn't miss,
Round about my careful feet!
I have come for this, for this!
Who was dancing in the night,
Where the boles black-shrouded stood?
Who tripped out from dark to light,
Winding from the murky wood?
("Let me find a fairy ring!"
I had always loved to sing!)
In this magic ring at last,
Surely I shall, waiting, see
Wonders from a childhood past,
Dancing, dancing out to me!
Magpies chortle from the hill!
Downward bent is every blade!
But the golden air is still,
And my heart beats sore afraid!
Magic is no longer here!
All the tripping feet are gone!
There is naught of faery near--
I have lost it striding on!
Never, never more I'll sing,
"Oh to find a fairy ring!"
First published in The Australasian, 14 July 1923
