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? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK DESTINY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: PENNIWIT, THE ARTIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |