Fairy Fare



Mabel, darling Mabel,
    Dancing down the lane;
Flitting like a butterfly,
    Between the drops of rain!
Now the sun, out-peeping,
    Gleams upon her hair,
Glitters in the dew that decks
    Her feet so small and bare.
Mabel, pretty Mabel,
    So gentle and so wild;--
She's not like other children,
    She's half a fairy-child!—
Ever watching, listening,
    So quick of eye and ear,
As though she saw what none could see;
    Heard what none could hear.

In her bed at midnight,
    By her sister's side,--
“Tell me, Mabel darling,”
    So her sister cried;
“Why are you so silent,
    Who used to be so bright,
Whispering to yourself all day,
    Wakeful half the night?
Tell me, for I love you,
    What has changed you so?”
Then the little Mabel
    Whispered shy and low:
“Listen to my secret;
    I will tell you, dear,
What no other creature,
    None but you must hear.”

“Last midsummer morning,
    At the dawn of day,
I rambled through the meadows
    For a lonely play.
In the willow copses,
    We call the wilderness,
I found — but guess, dear sister.—
    No, you could never guess!
I found a fairy table,
    Round, and draped in white,
Where the fairies left it
    Feasting over-night:
Heaped with tempting viands,
    Dainty fruits and wine,
And sparkling crimson goblets,
    All wreathed with partridge vine.”

“But oh, my little Mabel”!
    The frightened sister spake
“You did not taste the fairies' fare,
    Their bread you did not break?”
Alas, the pretty maiden,
    She shook her curly head,
To her anxious sister,
    Whisp'ring low, she said:
“I sipped a sip of fairy wine,
    I tasted fairy bread!”

“I ate and drank,” said Mabel,
    “And from that happy day,
With mortal children, large and rough,
    I have not cared to play;
But I am ever waiting,
    The coming of a band,
To follow, follow, follow,
    Away to fairy-land;
"And so I watch and listen,
    Until the elfins come,
To take me for their playmate,
    To make with me my home.”

Then up rose the sister,
    And to the woods she went;
With the woodland creatures,
    A summer day she spent.
Asked the woodland creatures,
    “Tell me, I implore,
Must my little sister,
    Live with us no more?”
Asked a squirrel, racing
    Up a cherry-tree:
“Tell me, pretty squirrel,
    Tell the truth to me.”

But the squirrel chattered,
    Frisked and chattered on;
Ate a wild cherry,
    Flung to her the stone;
Then away he frolicked,
    With a laugh went he,
Scampered down the cherry
    Up another tree.

Then the sister wandered
    Onward patiently;
Found a big bee buzzing
    Round a flowering vine,
Sucking clover blossoms,
    Quaffing scented wine;
Asked of him so humbly,
    Begged him so to stay,
Then he hummed around her,
    In his clumsy way:
When he found the maiden
    Was no monstrous flower,
Off he flew in dudgeon
    To his honey-tower!

Many birds and insects
    Flitted gayly by,
Pausing not to listen
    Nor to make reply:
Till a yellow flicker,
    Tapping on a tree,
Paused and listened gravely,
    Listened curiously:
Heard the mournful story
    That the sister told,
Then, with many an antic,
    Pert and over-bold,
Answered while he neatly
    Preened his wings of gold:
“The child that feeds on fairy food
    Never can grow old!”

“O flicker, pretty flicker!”
    She said, with sob and sigh,
“You mean my darling Mabel,
    My little pet, will die?”
He spread his wings so lightly,
    So lightly flew away;
But the troubled sister
    Wept the livelong day:
Until a vesper-sparrow,
    Touched by her distress,
Lilted out his lyric
    Full of tenderness:
With a soothing message
    Trilled the closing part,
“The child that feasts of fairy fare
    Will keep a youthful heart!”



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From Joy, and Other Poems, by Danske Dandridge. Second Edition. New York and London: G.P. Putnam's Sons - Knickerbocker Press, 1900.