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OH, WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR HEADS ?

Oh, where do fairies hide their heads

When snow lies on the hills ?
When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,

And crystallized their rills ?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip

In circles o'er the plain ;
And draughts of dew they cannot sip

Till green leaves come again.
Perhaps, in small blue diving-bells,

They plunge beneath the waves-
Inhabiting the wreathéd shells

That lie in coral caves.
Perhaps, in red Vesuvius,

Carousals they maintain,
And cheer their little spirits thus

Till green leaves come again.

15

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.
When they return, there will be mirth

And music in the air,
And fairy wings upon the earth,

And mischief everywhere.
The maids, to keep the elves aloof,

Will bar the doors in vain :
No keyhole will be fairy proof
When green leaves come again.

-7. Haynes Bay's

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.

I REMEMBER, I remember

The house where I was born ;
The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn.
He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day :
But now I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember

The roses red and white, The violets and the lily-cups.

Those flowers made of light. The li acs where the robin built,

And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday:

The tree is living yet.

I remember, I remember

Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing.
My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,
An summer pools could hardly cool

The scier on my brow.

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OH, WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR HEADS?

OH, where do fairies hide their heads

When snow lies on the hills?
When frost has spoiled their messy becs.

And crysta'lized their rilis?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip

In circles o'er the plain :
And draughts of dew they cannot sip

Till green leaves come again.
Perhaps in small blue diving-bells,

They plunge beneath the waves-
Inhabiting the wreathed shells

That Le in coral caves
Perhaps, in red Vesuvius

Carousals they malacain.
And cheer their little spirits thus

Tiil green leaves come again.

I REMEMBE

17 I remember, I remember

When they erum

And music 1 2:2 And fart ve

And muset The mads. 1

Wil z Jo vertone

ig

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ore bright,

-7. Bowring.

ast,

'e best.

The fir-trees dark and high-
I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky.
It was a childish ignorance ;

But now 't is little joy
To know I'm farther off from heaven
Than when I was a boy.

-T. Hood

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HOME JOYS.
SWEET are the joys of home,

And pure as sweet ; for they
Like dews of morn and evening come,

To wake and close the day.

!

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