Andrew Lang
The Fairy Minister
The Rev. Mr. Kirk of Aberfoyle was carried away by the Fairies in 1692.
People of Peace! a peaceful man,
Well worthy of your love was he,
Who, while the roaring Garry ran
Red with the life-blood of Dundee,
While coats were turning, crowns were falling,
Wandered along his valley still,
And heard your mystic voices calling
From fairy knowe and haunted hill.
He heard, he saw, he knew too well
The secrets of your fairy clan;
You stole him from the haunted dell,
Who never more was seen of man.
Now far from heaven, and safe from hell,
Unknown of earth, he wanders free.
The Fairy’s Gift
“Take short views.” — Sydney Smith
The Fays that to my christ’ning came
(For come they did, my nurses taught me),
They did not bring me wealth or fame,
‘Tis very little that they brought me.
But one, the crossest of the crew,
The ugly old one, uninvited,
Said, “I shall be avenged on You,
My child; you shall grow up short-sighted!”
With magic juices did she lave
Mine eyes, and wrought her wicked pleasure.
Well, of all gifts the Fairies gave,
Hers is the present that I treasure!
The bore whom others fear and flee,
I do not fear, I do not flee him;
Woman and the Weed
(Founded on a New Zealand Myth.)
In the Morning of Time, when his fortunes began,
How bleak, how un-Greek, was the Nature of Man!
From his wigwam, if ever he ventured to roam,
There was nobody waiting to welcome him home;
For the Man had been made, but the woman had not,
And Earth was a highly detestable spot.
Man hated his neighbours; they met and they scowled,
They did not converse but they struggled and howled,
For Man had no tact–he would ne’er take a hint,
And his notions he backed with a hatchet of flint.
So Man was alone, and he wished he could see
