Chapter 7

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell;The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;He has counted them all with click and stroke,Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,And he has awakened the sentry ElveWho sleeps with him in the haunted tree,To bid him ring the hour of twelve,And call the Fays to their revelry;Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—(’Twas made of the white snail’s pearly shell:—)Midnight comes, and all is well!Hither, hither, wing your way!’Tis the dawn of the Fairy day.”Joseph Rodman Drake

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell;The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;He has counted them all with click and stroke,Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,And he has awakened the sentry ElveWho sleeps with him in the haunted tree,To bid him ring the hour of twelve,And call the Fays to their revelry;Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—(’Twas made of the white snail’s pearly shell:—)Midnight comes, and all is well!Hither, hither, wing your way!’Tis the dawn of the Fairy day.”Joseph Rodman Drake

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell;The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;He has counted them all with click and stroke,Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,And he has awakened the sentry ElveWho sleeps with him in the haunted tree,To bid him ring the hour of twelve,And call the Fays to their revelry;Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—(’Twas made of the white snail’s pearly shell:—)Midnight comes, and all is well!Hither, hither, wing your way!’Tis the dawn of the Fairy day.”Joseph Rodman Drake

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell;The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;He has counted them all with click and stroke,Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,And he has awakened the sentry ElveWho sleeps with him in the haunted tree,To bid him ring the hour of twelve,And call the Fays to their revelry;Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—(’Twas made of the white snail’s pearly shell:—)Midnight comes, and all is well!Hither, hither, wing your way!’Tis the dawn of the Fairy day.”

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell;

The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;

He has counted them all with click and stroke,

Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,

And he has awakened the sentry Elve

Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree,

To bid him ring the hour of twelve,

And call the Fays to their revelry;

Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—

(’Twas made of the white snail’s pearly shell:—)

Midnight comes, and all is well!

Hither, hither, wing your way!

’Tis the dawn of the Fairy day.”

Joseph Rodman Drake

Joseph Rodman Drake


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