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TO
ELSPETH ANGELA CAMPBELL.
Too late they come, too late for you, These old friends tliat are ever new, Enchanted in our volume blue,
For you ere noiv liave wandered o'er A world of tales untold of yore, And learned tlhe later fairy-lore !
Nay, as within Iter briery brake
The Sleeping Beauty did awake,
Old tales may rouse them for your sake,
And you once more may voyage through Tlie forests tliat of old we kneio, Tlie fairy forests deep in dew,
IVlierc you, resuming childish things, Shall listen wlien the Blue Bird sings, And sit at feast with fairy Kitigs,
And taste tlieir wine, ere all be done, And face more welcome sliall be none Among the guests of Oberon.
Ay, of that feast sliall tales be told, Tlie marvels of tliat world of gold, To children young, wlien you are old.
When you are old ! Ah, dateless ' wlien,' For youth sliall perish among men, And Spring lurself be ancient then ! |
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