In ev’ning’s twinkling, twilight fall
I’d steal away, amid the flight
of creatures stirring to its call
or hast’ning to abodes of night.
I strode the lanes, as I was wont,
through field and fen and wood and glen,
and, lo, on one such moonlit haunt
a tune, methought, but could not ken.
So sweetly, bittersweetly gay,
its lilt has lingered long e’er since;
for there I heard the faeries play
and danced that night with their young prince.
’Twas at a crossroads, just aside,
where first enticed the charmèd strains;
and I, enchanted, ere long spied
amid the thorns beside the lanes
a hollow – hitherto unseen –
where, merry, danced a multitude
in moonbeams’ cheery, silver’d sheen.
And there in twilight’s solitude
where fiddle, pipe, and drum held sway,
forbidden charms did then evince,
for there I heard the faeries play
and danced that night with their young prince.
Those stirring strains bade me proceed –
their lure I would nor could resist.
The merry dancers scarce gave heed,
ne’er step they missed nor did desist,
but lively closed as e’er I cleared
each hand-to-hand encircling fold.
From out their midst a lad appeared,
in crimson sash and cap of gold,
and took my hand without delay –
no need to parley or convince –
for there I heard the faeries play
and danced that night with their young prince.
It seemed a fortnight all in one
that, head to head and arm in arm,
then hand in hand, as we’d begun
my lad and I held in the charm
the sprightly minstrels’ spell had spun.
Though, merry, danced the others ’round,
beside us two, there seemed but none –
beyond the drum-beat pulse, no sound –
in that bright hollow by the way,
’midst moonbeams’ silv’ry, dappled tints;
for there I heard the faeries play
and danced that night with their young prince.
Then, reeling on their heels to stand,
a toast the merry rev’lers raised;
with cheers of mirth and cups in hand
by all my comely lad was praised.
And to me passed, that I might sip
of wine forbid by mortal folk,
but ere that draught had touched my lip,
alas – by cruel stroke! – I woke
to naught, in morning’s steel-cold gray,
but languid echoes’ last imprints;
for there I’d heard the faeries play
and danced that night with their young prince.
Though since that night, new paths I’ve found
and dazzling city venues fair
where divers pleasures all abound
with joy at hand for all to share
and friends who cheer and suitors woo;
yet now, as then, when twilight falls
and bids night’s creatures forth anew,
I steal astray, where mem’ry calls,
to moonlit hollows far away –
my favorite haunts for so long since –
perchance to hear the faeries play
and dance again with their young prince.
© 2025 Anthony Colburn