Maiden-poet, come with me
To the heaped up cairn of Maeve,
And there we'll dance a fairy dance
Upon a fairy's grave.
In and out among the trees,
Filling all the night with sound,
The morning, strung upon her star,
Shall chase us round and round.
What are we but fairies too,
Living but in dreams alone,
Or, at the most, but children still,
Innocent and overgrown?
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Fairies by cheyenne mccartney )
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Lucy Gray, or Solitude, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Dulce et Decorum Est, Wilfred Owen
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- A Poison Tree, William Blake
- A Well-Worn Story, Dorothy Parker
Poem of the Day
- Ballade [The goat scratches so much it c.., François Villon
- Love Note 6, Michael P. McParland
- Sending Words about Overnight in Fishing.., Luo Zhihai
- Give me 'all of you', Juwon Daniel
- Leprosy eradication., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Beyond The Dotted Lines, Asma Riaz Khan
- if I die young, Juwon Daniel
- Story of snow., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- She Wanted, Spiritwind Wood
- When love was born, Lehlohonolo Selai