Where'er.

Muncha, Morning Star, 1902

The moonlight fades from flower and rose 

And the stars dim one by one; 

The tale is told, the song is sung, 

And the Fairy feast is done.

 

The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, 

And sings to them, soft and low.

 

The early birds erelong will wake: 

'T is time for the Elves to go.

 

O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass, 

Unseen by mortal eye, 

And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float 

Through the quiet moonlit sky;-- 

For the stars' soft eyes alone may see, 

And the flowers alone may know, 

The feasts we hold, the tales we tell; 

So't is time for the Elves to go.

 

From bird, and blossom, and bee, 

We learn the lessons they teach; 

And seek, by kindly deeds, to win 

A loving friend in each.

 

And though unseen on earth we dwell, 

Sweet voices whisper low, 

And gentle hearts most joyously greet 

The Elves where'er they go.

 

When next we meet in the Fairy dell, 

May the silver moon's soft light 

Shine then on faces gay as now, 

And Elfin hearts as light.

 

Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky 

With sunlight soon shall glow.

 

The morning star shall light us home: 

Farewell! for the Elves must go.

Louisa May Alcott