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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BURNED CHILD, by HUGH WESTERN
First Line: Whist in the night when the wet leaves are dripping
Last Line: A boy who hath wings.
Subject(s): Children; Childhood
First Line: Whist in the night when the wet leaves are dripping
Last Line: A boy who hath wings.
Subject(s): Children; Childhood
Whist in the night when the wet leaves are dripping
Fairy-folk seem as though drowsy, ashirk;
Dawn yet will show little people are tripping
Now featest to work,
Training the tendrils, perfuming the arbors,
Greening the sprouts that will later be sheaves,
Banding themselves into guilds like the barbers'
As trimmers of leaves.
Raising with rites of a fay necromancy
The ominous bloom of the mushroom, they prune
The love-in-the-mist and they plot, as I fancy,
New pranks with the moon.
These are my gossips. Each rascally fairy
That firefly rides or from gossamer swings
My crony is sworn, but of one I am wary --
A boy who hath wings.
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