Prelude

My little men and women Who sit with your eyes downcast, Turning the leaves of the Snow-Berries Over and over so fast,

I know as I hear them flutter Like the leaves on a summer bough, You are looking out for the story about The fairies,—aren’t you, now?

And so it is wise to tell you That you need not turn so fast, For there isn’t a single fairy-tale In the book from first to last.

My Muse is plain and homespun,— Quite given to work-day ways,— And she never spent an hour in the tent Of a fairy, in all her days.

She is strongest on her native soil; And you will see she sings Little in praise of elfs and fays, And less of queens and kings.

“Be sure, the beautiful violet In the grass no longer glows, But we may get a-burning yet, Some little lamp of a rose!”

So out we ran to the meadows, Though the time of flowers was done, And after us ran our shadows,— Three and three, and one.

All up and down the rivulets That shaved so close to the sand, And all across the lowland moss, And across the stubble land;

And deep, and deeper into the wood, And under the hedge-row wall; To the Callamus Pond, and on beyond, And never a flower at all!

Footsore, weary, and heart-sick, We had tramped for three long hours, When a voice so proud cried out aloud, “The flowers! I’ve found the flowers!”

Fast we flew to the top of the hill, And fast and faster down, And full in sight limbs shone so white From the thicket dull and brown.

The turf slides back, and farther back, We are there, we are under the trees! And our eager hands are breaking the wands Of the milk-white snow-berries!

We had had a tramp, through cold and damp, Of three right weary hours, But we did not grieve, if you believe, That our berries were not flowers!

But each with a sheaf on his shoulder, As white as the whitest foam, We struck across the lowland moss, And into the lights of home.

So, my little men and women, Who sit with your eyes downcast, Turning the leaves of the Snow-Berries, So eagerly and so fast,

When that you fail to find the tale Of airy fancy bred, You may even get some pleasure yet