Do you have a favorite fairy/goblin/brownie type poem?

[helena]

I while back I had posted about wanting to do a year long fairytale reading theme. I've since collected the books and set them aside for next year.

 

My daughter just came to me to suggest a year of fairy type poems for memory work. We do two poems a month, one of which is an ongoing theme (this year it was poems about the given month).

 

She brought me this one:

 

Daisies

by Frank Sherman

 

At evening when I go to bed

I see the stars shine overhead;

They are the little daisies white

That dot the meadow of the Night.

 

And often while I'm dreaming so,

Across the sky the Moon will go;

It is a lady, sweet and fair,

Who comes to gather daisies there.

 

For, when at morning I arise,

There's not a star left in the skies;

She's picked them all and dropped them down

Into the meadows of the town.

 

 

A few that tied magic into the Middle Ages (next years history) would be nice too. Maybe a knight, alchemy, castle, or princess theme.

Any suggestions?

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

I have some! Be right back...

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

Fairies

 

1. Children, Children, Don't Forget by Dora Owen

 

Children, children, don't forget

There are elves and fairies yet;

Where the knotty hawthorn grows

Look for prints of fairy toes.

Where the grassy rings are green

Moonlight dances shall be seen.

Watch and wait: O lucky you,

If you find a fairy shoe:

For a ransom he will pay,

Hobbling barefoot all the day,

lay it on his mushroom seat,

Wish your wish and go your way

If your wish should be discreet

Never fear but he will pay.

 

2. I Keep Three Wishes Ready by Annette Wynne

 

I keep three wishes ready,

Lest I should chance to meet,

Any day a fairy

Coming down the street.

 

I'd hate to have to stammer,

Or have to think them out,

For it's very hard to think things up

When a fairy is about.

 

And I'd hate to lose my wishes,

For fairies fly away,

And perhaps I'd never have a chance

On any other day.

 

So I keep three wishes ready

Lest I should chance to meet,

Any day a fairy

Coming down the street.

 

3. Brownie, by A.A. Milne

 

In a corner of the bedroom is a great big curtain,

Someone lives behind it but I don't know who;

I think it is a Brownie, but I'm not quite certain.

(Nanny isn't certain, too.)

 

I looked behind the curtain, but he went so quickly--

Brownies never wait to say, "How do you do?"

They wriggle off at once because they're all so tickly.

(Nanny says they're tickly, too.)

 

4. The Goblin by Rose Fyleman

 

A goblin lives in our house, in our house, in our house,

A goblin lives in our house all the year round.

He bumps

And he jumps

And he thumps

And he stumps.

He knocks

And he rocks

And he rattles at the locks.

A goblin lives in our house, in our house, in our house,

A goblin lives in our house, all the year round.

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

Lullaby of an Infant Chief by Sir Walter Scott

 

O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight,

Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright;

The woods and the glens from the tower we see,

They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee.

 

O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,

It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;

Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,

Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

 

O, hush thee, my baby, the time will soon come

When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;

Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,

For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

[nmoira]

The Fairies

by William Allingham

 

UP the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

 

Down along the rocky shore

Some make their home,

They live on crispy pancakes

Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain lake,

With frogs for their watch-dogs,

All night awake.

 

High on the hill-top The old King sits;

He is now so old and gray

He's nigh lost his wits.

With a bridge of white mist

Columbkill he crosses,

On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses;

Or going up with music

On cold starry nights

To sup with the Queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

 

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again

Her friends were all gone.

They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow,

They thought that she was fast asleep,

But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lake,

On a bed of flag-leaves,

Watching till she wake.

 

By the craggy hill-side,

Through the mosses bare,

They have planted thorn-trees

For pleasure here and there.

If any man so daring

As dig them up in spite,

He shall find their sharpest thorns

In his bed at night.

 

Up the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

Edited May 21, 2011 by nmoira

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

Someone by Walter de la Mare

 

Someone came knocking

At my wee, small door,

Someone came knocking,

I'm sure--sure--sure;

I listened, I opened,

I looked to left and right,

But nought there was a-stirring

In the still dark night.

 

Only the busy beetle

Tap-tapping in the wall,

Only from the forest

The screech-owl's call,

Only the cricket whistling

While the dew drops fall,

So I know not who came knocking,

At all, at all, at all.

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

The Fairies

by William Allingham

 

UP the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

 

Down along the rocky shore

Some make their home,

They live on crispy pancakes

Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain lake,

With frogs for their watch-dogs,

All night awake.

 

High on the hill-top The old King sits;

He is now so old and gray

He's nigh lost his wits.

With a bridge of white mist

Columbkill he crosses,

On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses;

Or going up with music

On cold starry nights

To sup with the Queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

 

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again

Her friends were all gone.

They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow,

They thought that she was fast asleep,

But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lake,

On a bed of flag-leaves,

Watching till she wake.

 

By the craggy hill-side,

Through the mosses bare,

They have planted thorn-trees

For pleasure here and there.

If any man so daring

As dig them up in spite,

He shall find their sharpest thorns

In his bed at night.

 

Up the airy mountain,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

 

Oh, I'm glad you posted this before I started typing it out! LOL

[nmoira]

 

Someone by Walter de la Mare

I've always loved this one.

[nmoira]

 

Oh, I'm glad you posted this before I started typing it out! LOL

:D

[Guest Dulcimeramy]

Is this for your older or your younger daughter? I was about 13 when I memorized this:

 

The Night Piece, to Julia, by Robert Herrick

 

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,

The shooting stars attend thee;

And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

 

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mis-light thee,

Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;

But on, on thy way,

Not making a stay,

Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

 

Let not the dark thee cumber;

What though the moon does slumber?

The stars of the night

Will lend thee their light,

Like tapers clear without number.

 

Then Julia let me woo thee,

Thus, thus to come unto me;

And when I shall meet

Thy silv'ry feet,

My soul I'll pour into thee.

[ChiknGirl]

You might try to find Fairy Poems For the Very Young by Beverlie Manson. It's got 20+ poems in it of varying length. It illustrations are ok... not my favorite though. It's a compilation. If you can't find it, I could post the table of contents and you might be able to find the poems individually.

[helena]

Thanks everyone! I'm going to start printing!

I tend to collect a bunch of pieces, then slowly narrow it down. :001_smile:

It's my summer poetry ritual.

 

This is going to be for both girls, so I'm looking for a little bit of everything. I'd like some short and sweet (or scary;)), some long and more complex.

 

I'm just thrilled that my 12yo is excited about the fairytale idea. When I posted about this some months back, I wasn't sure if I was trying to do something too young with them. I can see now that they're both excited about the idea.

 

 

:lurk5:

[helena]

You might try to find Fairy Poems For the Very Young by Beverlie Manson. It's got 20+ poems in it of varying length. It illustrations are ok... not my favorite though. It's a compilation. If you can't find it, I could post the table of contents and you might be able to find the poems individually.

 

It's funny you should mention that the pictures are just okay. We've had more than a few fairy books where I was ready to toss them because the pictures were not appealing.

 

I've come to realize cheesy fairy artwork doesn't always represent the timeless work that may be inside.

 

You don't have to sit and type all that out...

but, if there's a title you particularly love, that would be nice.

[helena]

Any other suggestions? :001_smile:

Any poems on the scarier side maybe?

[Caitilin]

I love this one; I can sing it by heart. :)

 

The ballad of Tam Lin

 

Lady Margaret, Lady Margaret, sewing of her seam

And she's all dressed in black

When a thought comes to her head she'd run into the wood

Pick flowers to flower her hat, me boys

Pick flowers to flower her hat

 

So she's hoisted up her petticoats a bit above her knee

And so nimbly she'd run o'er the plain

And when she's come to the merry green wood

She's pulled them branches down, down

She's pulled them branches down

 

And suddenly she spied a fine young man

Stood underneath the tree

Saying, "How dare you pull them branches down

Without the leave of me, lady,

Without the leave of me."

 

She says "This little wood it is me very own

Me father give it me.

And I can pull these branches down

Without the leave of thee, young man,

Without the leave of thee."

 

He's taken her by the lily-white hand

And by the grass-green sleeve

And he's laid her down at the foot of a bush

He's never once asked her leave, me boys,

He's never once asked her leave

 

And when it was done she has turned herself about

To ask her true-love's name

But she nothing heard and nothing saw

And all the woods grew dim, me boys,

And all the woods grew dim

 

There's four and twenty ladies all in the court

Grown red as any rose

Excepting for young Margaret

And green as glass she goes , any grass,

Yes green as glass she goes.

 

Outten spoke the first serving girl,

She lifted her head and smiled

"I think me lady's loved too long

And now she goes with child, me dears

Now she goes with child."

 

And outten spoke the second serving girl

"Oh ever and alas," Said she

"I think I know a herb in the merry green wood

That'll twine the babe from thee, Lady

That'll twine the babe from thee."

 

Lady Margaret, she picked up her silver comb

Made haste to comb her hair

She's away to the merry green wood

As fast as she can tear, me boys

As fast as she can tear.

 

She hadn't pulled a herb in that merry green wood

A herb but barely one

When by her stood young Tam Lin

Saying, "Margaret, leave it alone, me love,

Margaret, leave it alone."

 

"Oh no how can you pull that bitter little herb

The herb that grows so grey

To take away that sweet babe's life

We got in our play, me love,

That we got in our play?"

 

"Oh tell me the truth, young Tam Lin," she says

"If an earthly man you be."

"I'll tell you no lies, Lady Margeret" he says

I was christened the same as thee, me dear

I was christened the same as thee."

 

"But as I rode out one cold and bitter day

From off me horse I fell

And the Queen Elfland she took me

In yonder green hill to dwell, me dear,

In yonder green hill to dwell."

 

"But this night it is the Hallow-een

When the Elven Court must ride

And if you would your true love win

By the old mill-bridge you must bide, me dear

By the old mill bridge you must bide."

 

"And first will come the black horse and then come by the brown

And then race by the white

But you'll hold me fast and fear me not

And I will not you afright, me love

I will not you afright."

 

"And then they will change me all in your arms

Into many a beast sae wild

But you'll hold me fast and fear me not

I'm the father of your child, you know

You know that I'm the father of your child."

 

So Margeret has taken up her silver comb

Made haste to comb her hair

And she's away to the old mill-bridge

As fast as she can tear, me boys,

As fast as she can tear

 

And at the dead hour of the night

She heard the harness ring

And oh me boys it chilled her heart

More than any mortal thing, it did

More than any mortal thing.

 

And first come by the black horse and then come by the brown

And then race by the white

And she held it fast and feared it not

And it did not her afright, me boys,

It did not her afright.

 

The thunder rolled across the sky

And the stars they blazed like day

And the Queen of Elfland gave a thrilling cry,

"Oh young Tam Lin's away, away

Oh young Tam Lin's away."

 

And then they have changed him all in her arms

To a lion that roared so wild

But she held it fast and feared it not

It was the father of her child, she knew

It was father of her child.

 

And then they have changed him all in her arms

Into a loathesome snake

But she held it fast and feared it not

It was one of God's own make, she knew

It was one of God's own make.

 

And then they have changed him all in her arms

To a red hot bar of iron

But she held it fast and feared it not

It did to her no harm, me boys

It did to her no harm.

 

And at last they have changed him all in her arms

It was to a naked man

And she's flung her mantle over him,

Crying, "Me love I've won, I've won"

Oh crying, "Me love I've won."

 

And outten spoke the Queen of Elfenland

From the bush wherein she stood

"I should have tore out your eyes Tam Lin

And put in two eyes of wood, of wood

Put in two eyes of wood."

[katilac]

The Stolen Child by Yeats is wonderfully creepy:

 

WHERE dips the rocky highland

Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,

There lies a leafy island

Where flapping herons wake

The drowsy water rats;

There we've hid our faery vats,

Full of berrys

And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

 

Where the wave of moonlight glosses

The dim gray sands with light,

Far off by furthest Rosses

We foot it all the night,

Weaving olden dances

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight;

To and fro we leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

While the world is full of troubles

And anxious in its sleep.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

 

Where the wandering water gushes

From the hills above Glen-Car,

In pools among the rushes

That scarce could bathe a star,

We seek for slumbering trout

And whispering in their ears

Give them unquiet dreams;

Leaning softly out

From ferns that drop their tears

Over the young streams.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

 

Away with us he's going,

The solemn-eyed:

He'll hear no more the lowing

Of the calves on the warm hillside

Or the kettle on the hob

Sing peace into his breast,

Or see the brown mice bob

Round and round the oatmeal chest.

For he comes, the human child,

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

[katilac]

And you could watch the Small Worlds episode of Torchwood, strictly for educational purposes :D

[nmoira]

Any other suggestions? :001_smile:

Any poems on the scarier side maybe?

 

Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti

 

It's too long to paste here.

[Twigs]

Something from Cicely Mary Barker's Flower Fairies?

 

http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Book-Flower-Fairies-Special/dp/0723266263/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_3#_

[Homemama2]

double post

[Homemama2]

Our favorite one about goblins:

 

 

 

 

The Little Orphan Annie

by

James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphan Annie's come to my house to stay.

To wash the cups and saucers up and brush the crumbs away.

To shoo the chickens from the porch and dust the hearth and sweep,

and make the fire and bake the bread to earn her board and keep.

While all us other children, when the supper things is done,

we sit around the kitchen fire and has the mostest fun,

a listening to the witch tales that Annie tells about

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!

 

 

 

 

 

Once there was a little boy who wouldn't say his prayers,

and when he went to bed at night away up stairs,

his mammy heard him holler and his daddy heard him bawl,

and when they turned the covers down,

he wasn't there at all!

They searched him in the attic room

and cubby hole and press

and even up the chimney flu and every wheres, I guess,

but all they ever found of him was just his pants and round-abouts

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

 

 

 

 

 

Once there was a little girl who always laughed and grinned

and made fun of everyone, of all her blood and kin,

and once when there was company and old folks was there,

she mocked them and she shocked them and said, she didn't care.

And just as she turned on her heels and to go and run and hide,

there was two great big black things a standing by her side.

They snatched her through the ceiling fore she knew what shes about,

and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

 

 

 

When the night is dark and scary,

and the moon is full and creatures are a flying and the wind goes Whoooooooooo,

you better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear,

and cherish them that loves ya, and dry the orphans tears

and help the poor and needy ones that cluster all about,

or the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!!

[Jamee]

The first thing that came to my mind was the "Brownie Year Book" by Palmer Cox. there's a small poem for each month of the year.

[helena]

I'm getting all of next years poetry together, and thought I'd ask one more time. :001_smile:

:bigear:

[justamouse]

...so I can find this thread later

[TrixieB]

Any other suggestions? :001_smile:

Any poems on the scarier side maybe?

In 4th grade, my class was assigned this poem for copywork at Halloween.

 

"The Changeling" by Leah Bodine Drake

 

 

[helena]

In 4th grade, my class was assigned this poem for copywork at Halloween.

 

"The Changeling" by Leah Bodine Drake

 

I am out on the wind

In the wild, black night;

On the wings of the owl

I take my flight,

 

On the ghostly wings of the great white owl;

And whether the night be fair or foul,

Or the moon be up or the thunder growl,

 

Happy I be,

Happy I be

 

When the changeling blood runs green in me!

 

 

When meek folk sleep

In their dull, soft beds,

I creep over roots

That the weasel treads,

 

Where the squat green lamps of the toadstools glow -

And only the fox knows the ways I go,

And nobody knows the things I know ....

 

Wise I be,

Wise I be

 

When the changeling blood runs green in me!

 

 

O Mother, slumber

And do not wake! ...

Thin voices called

From the rain-wet brake,

 

And the child you cradled against your breast

Is out in the night on the black wind's crest,

For only the wild can give me rest ....

 

Sad I be,

Sad I be

 

When the changeling blood runs green in me.

 

I'm so glad I bumped this! Thanks :001_smile:

[coffeegal]

One of my favorites. :001_smile:

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/239196

 

Hist Whist

By E. E. Cummings 1894–1962

 

 

hist whist

little ghostthings

tip-toe

twinkle-toe

 

 

little twitchy

witches and tingling

goblins

hob-a-nob hob-a-nob

 

 

little hoppy happy

toad in tweeds

tweeds

little itchy mousies

 

 

with scuttling

eyes rustle and run and

hidehidehide

whisk

 

 

whisk look out for the old woman

with the wart on her nose

what she’ll do to yer

nobody knows

 

 

for she knows the devil ooch

the devil ouch

the devil

ach the great

 

 

green

dancing

devil

devil

 

 

devil

devil

 

 

wheeEEE

[JennifersLost]

I was around 10 or 12 when I first read the Goblin market and I loved that poem. Much too long to memorize, but the mood really sticks with you.

[In The Great White North]

Der Erlkonig by Goethe

 

 

 

(with translation)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Der_Erlk%C3%B6nig

[helena]

Der Erlkonig by Goethe

 

 

 

(with translation)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Der_Erlk%C3%B6nig

 

Oooo! That is creepy!

[annlaura]

LOVE this thread!!! I was going to post Little Orphan Annie and hist whist, but you all beat me to it. I have a copy of hist whist waiting for DS for this fall. Can't wait! What a great theme. :)

[Little Nyssa]

I found this one in the Treason of Isengard, the history of the Lord of the Rings, part two by Christopher Tolkein, pp 85-86. It is the earliest version of the poem that developed into Earendil was a Mariner, which Bilbo recites in Rivendell. This is the earliest version, which is not the same as what is published in other volumes or on line. I love this poem because it is such a pleasure to read, and very cleverly made. Enjoy:

 

 

Errantry

by JRR Tolkein

 

There was a merry passenger,

a messenger, an errander;

he took a tiny porringer

and oranges for provender;

he took a little grasshopper

and harnessed her to carry him;

he chased a little butterfly

that fluttered by, to marry him.

He made him wings of taffeta

to laugh at her and catch her with;

he made her shoes of beetle-skin

with needles in to latch them with.

They fell to bitter quarrelling,

and sorrowing he fled away;

and long he studied sorcery

in Ossory a many day.

He made a shield and morion

of coral and of ivory;

he made a spear of emerald

and glimmered all in bravery

a sword he made of malachite

and stalactite, and brandished it,

he went a fought the dragon-fly

called wag-on-high and vanquished it.

He battled with the Dumbledores,

and bumbles all, and honeybees,

and won the golden honey-comb,

and running home on sunny seas,

in ship of leaves and gossamer

with blossom for a canopy,

he polished up and burnished up

and furbished up his panoply.

He tarried for a little while

in little isles, and plundered them;

and webs of all the attercops

he shattered, cut, and sundered them.

and coming home with honey-comb

and money none-- remembered it,

his message and his errand too!

His derring-do had hindered it.