THE MESSENGER. Entered at the Post-Office at Richmond College, Va., as second-class matter.
VoL. XLIII.
NOVEMBER, 1916.
THE FAIRY DANCE. M. S. R., '17. I went to hunt in the woods to-day, To find the nymphs and fairies at play, And dance while the hours stole away. But, sad to say, There was not one. The day was cold, and the leaves were still) With no sign of a fairy to skip and run, And the lonesome call of a whip-poor-will Seemed to say that my fairy days were done. And I was sad, and wondered why, If such things weren't and never could be, And all the wonders were only a lieWhy they had ever told them to me. The pine tree moaned so dreary and sad, And the sycamore rustled with discontent, And the wind blew the oak as if it were mad, And the hickory seemed so gnarled and bent. I had hoped to find a fairy bright In a crypt of amethyst, ruby, and pearl, And gnomes fantastic to dance in the light Of a wonderful magic world.
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