The Feast Of The Fairies Poem by Kate Harrington

One holy-night the fays convened,
All in full mirth and glee;
And formed a gay, fantastic ring
To Zephyrs' minstrelsy.

The fairy-dance went round and round,
All merriment and sheen,
Till one fay o'er a moonbeam fell,
And broke the magic scene.

And now 'twas feast-time; Fancy called
Each airy-footed sprite;
And oh, the riot that prevailed
Upon that festal night!

For Fancy, mistress of the spell,
Presided o'er the cheer;
And, at her beck, each joyous fay,
With viands choice, drew near.

The dish that Love had ordered
Proved a medley, tough and tart;
Among its contents she discerned
A dry and shriveled heart.

It was a bachelor''s. She tore
And twisted, wrenched and wrung,—
At length she spurned the gristly thing,
And then the fairies sung:

' A bachelor's heart does not belong
To heaven or earth, we trow;
We'll toss it up, and we'll toss it down,
And we'll toss it to and fro.'

And then that heart, oh, how it flew
The laughing fays among !
As football some the odd thing struck,
And some with fury flung.

But Fancy frowned upon the scene,
And, when the frolic ceased,
She mixed in one the dishes all,
And spoiled the fairies' feast.

Oh, then, a pretty mess appeared!
Smiles, kisses, hearts betrayed,
Forget-me-nots, and broken vows
Were, in rude plight, displayed.

The elves they had not feasted yet,
Shrill chanticleer crowed—one ;
The moon withdrew her golden beams,—
The fairy-feast was done.

But ere they parted, though provoked
At Fancy's churlish ire,
They sang the song they'd sung before,
And Zephyrs joined the choir :

'A bachelor's heart does not belong
To heaven or earth, we trow;
We'll toss it up, and we'll toss it down,
And we'll toss it to and fro.'