Once in a fold of the hill I caught them--
All by my lone was I--
Out on the downs one night in Autumn,
Under a moonlit sky.
There on a smooth little green rectangle
Sparkled the lines of dew;
Over the court with their wings a-spangle
Four little fairies flew;
Skeleton leaves in their hands for racquets
(All in a ring around
Brownies and elves in their bright green jackets
Watched from the rising ground).
Then, as I crept up close for clearer
Sight of the Fairy Queen,
_Oberon_, throned on a toadstool near her,
Carolled out "Love fifteen."
Over a net of the fairies' knitting
(Fine-spun gossamer thread)
Smallest of tiny puff-balls flitting
Hither and thither sped.
So for a minute I watched them, shrinking
Low in the gorse-bush shade;
Then, like a mortal fool unthinking,
Shouted aloud, "Well played!"
Right in the midst of an elfin rally
Sudden I stood alone;
Far away over the distant valley
Fairies and elves had flown.
* * * * *