[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]



IN the old old times
The harebells had their chimes,
I can tell you, and could sing out loud and brave;
But Queen Titania said
That they quite confused her head,
And she really must request’
And, in short, she gave no rest
To her silly Lord and Master,
Till his royal word he’d passed her
That the little darling harebells,
The merry little harebells,
Should be for ever silent as the grave.

Then to each little root
Sank down so sad and mute
Even the tiniest little tremor of a tinkle.
But when evening is come,
And the noisy day is dumb,
And the stars above the vale begin to twinkle,
Then, shy as is a fly,
Poor Oberon will come,
And lean him to the whispers
Of the lovely little lispers,
And he’ll listen, and he’ll listen, and he’ll sigh.


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