The Fairy Queen's Song

Oh, foolish fay,
Think you because
Man's brave array
My bosom thaws
I'd disobey
Our fairy laws?
Because I fly
In realms above,
In tendency
To fall in love
Resemble I
The amorous dove?

Oh, amorous dove!
Type of Ovidius Naso!
This heart of mine
Is soft as thine,
Although I dare not say so!

On fire that glows
With heat intense
I turn the hose
Of Common Sense,
And out it goes
At small expense!
We must maintain
Our fairy law;
That is the main
On which to draw -
In that we gain
A Captain Shaw.

Oh, Captain Shaw!
Type of true love kept under!
Could thy Brigade
With cold cascade
Quench my great love, I wonder!

William Schwenck Gilbert

William Schwenck Gilbert was an English dramatist, librettist, poet, and illustrator best known for his collaboration with composer Arthur Sullivan, which produced fourteen comic operas, including 'H.M.S. Pinafore', 'The Pirates of Penzance', and 'The Mikado'. His works are known for their light-hearted satirical humor and have remained popular for their wit and creativity. Gilbert was also a barrister and produced several serious plays.

William Schwenck Gilbert

Emily, John, James, And I. A Derby Legend.

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

The Rover's Apology.

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

The Ghosts' High Noon

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

Disillusioned By An Ex-Enthusiast

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

English

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Song - I'd Be A Fairy King.

Oh, I'd be a Fairy King,
With my vassals brave and bold;
        We'd hunt all day,
        Through the wildwood gay,
In our guise of green and gold;
And we'd lead such a merry, merry life,
That the silly, toiling bee,
        Would have no sweet
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        I'd be a Fairy King,
            With my vassals brave and bold;
                    We'd hunt all day,
                    Through the wildwood gay,
            In our guise of green and gold.

At night, when the moon spake down,
With her bland and pensive tone,
        The fairest Queen
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Would sit on my pearly throne;
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Only A Dancing Girl

Only a dancing girl,
With an unromantic style,
With borrowed color and curl,
With fixed mechanical smile,
With many a hackneyed wile,
With ungrammatical lips,
And corns that mar her trips!

Hung from the "flies" in air,
She acts a palpable lie,
She's as little a fairy there
As unpoetical I!
I hear you asking, Why
Why in the world I sing
This tawdry, tinselled thing?

No airy fairy she,
As she hangs in arsenic green,
From a highly impossible tree,
In a highly impossible scene
(Herself not over clean).
For fays don't suffer, I'm told,
From bunions, coughs, or cold.

And stately dames that bring
Their daughters there to see,
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No better than she should be.
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William Schwenck Gilbert

Lines. After the Manner of the Olden Time.

O Love! the mischief thou hast done!
Thou god of pleasure and of pain!--
None can escape thee--yes there's one--
All others find the effort vain:
Thou cause of all my smiles and tears!
Thou blight and bloom of all my years!

Love bathes him in the morning dews,
Reclines him in the lily bells,
Reposes in the rainbow hues,
And sparkles in the crystal wells,
Or hies him to the coral-caves,
Where sea-nymphs sport beneath the waves.

Love vibrates in the wind-harp's tune--
With fays and oreads lingers he--
Gleams in th' ring of the watery moon,
Or treads the pebbles of the sea.
Love rules "the court, the camp, the grove"--
Oh, everywhere we meet thee, Love!

And everywhere he welcome finds,
From cottage-door to palace-porch--
Love...

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The Fairy Woman's Song.

The fairy woman maketh moan,
    "Well-a-day, and well-a-day,
Forsooth I brought thee one rose, one,
    And thou didst cast my rose away."
Hark! Oh hark, she mourneth yet,
    "One good ship - the good ship sailed,
One bright star, at last it set,
    One, one chance, forsooth it failed."

Clear thy dusk hair from thy veiled eyes,
    Show thy face as thee beseems,
For yet is starlight in the skies,
    Weird woman piteous through my dreams.
"Nay," she mourns, "forsooth not now,
    Veiled I sit for evermore,
Rose is shed, and charmèd prow
    Shall not touch the charmèd shore."

There thy sons that were to be,
    Thy small gamesome children play;
There all loves that men foresee
    Straight as wands enrich the way.
Dove-eyed, ...

Jean Ingelow

Falerina.

The night is hung above us, love,
With heavy stars that love us, love,
With clouds that curl in purple and pearl,
And winds that whisper of us, love:
On burly hills and valleys, that lie dimmer,
The amber foot-falls of the moon-sylphs glimmer.

The moon is still a crescent, love;
And here with thee 'tis pleasant, love,
To sit and dream in its thin gleam,
And list thy sighs liquescent, love:
To see thy eyes and fondle thy dark tresses,
Set on warm lips imperishable kisses.

The sudden-glaring fire-flies
Swim o'er the hollow gyre-wise,
And spurt and shine like jostled wine
At lips on which desire lies:
Or like the out-flashed hair of elf or fairy
In rapid morrice whirling feat and airy.

Up, - all the blue West sundering, -
A creamy...

Madison Julius Cawein

A Melody.

        I.

There be Fairies bright of eye,
Who the wild-flowers warders are;
There be Fairies subtlely
Nourished in a blossom's star;
Fairies tripping merrily
Singing in faint echoes far,
Singing fairy melodies
Murmured by the burly bees,
By the wild brown bees.


        II.

Well I wot that Fairies be there, -
Fairies, Fairies that at eve
Lurking in a blossom-lair,
In some rose-bud's scented hair
From white beams of starlight weave
Glinting gown and shining shoe.
I have proven sure and true
Fairies be there, fays of dew,
Lying laughing in its spark
Floating in a rose's sark;
Singing fairy melodies,
When asleep the dusty bees
Can not steal their melodies,
Fairy melodies.

Madison Julius Cawein