48
The Zankiwank
O to be here for ever,
With the fairy band,
O to wake up never
From this dreamy land!
For the humblest plant is weighted
With some new perfume,
And the scent of the air drops like some prayer
And mingles with the bloom,
O to be here for ever, and never, never wake.
With the fairy band,
O to wake up never
From this dreamy land!
For the humblest plant is weighted
With some new perfume,
And the scent of the air drops like some prayer
And mingles with the bloom,
O to be here for ever, and never, never wake.
Was that the music of the spheres they wondered? Somehow it seemed as though their own hearts’ echo played to the words that fell so soft, like a fair sweet tender melody of fairies long ago.
The Zankiwank had left them again, to send another telegram, perhaps, and Maude and Willie went rambling through the meadow and down by the brook, where they gathered nuts and berries and sat them down to enjoy a rural feast.
Tiny elves and fairies were constantly coming and going, some driving in wee chariots with ants for horses and oak leaves for carriages. And