English poem
The Changeling
by Olive Custance (1874–1944)
My father was a golden king, My mother was a shining queen; I heard the magic blue-bird sing … They wrapped me in a mantle green.
They led their winged white horses out, We rode and rode till dawn was grey; We rode with many a song and shout, "Over the hills and far away."
They stole the crying human child, And left me laughing by the fire; And that is why my heart is wild, And all my life a long desire …
The old enchantments hold me still … And sometimes in a waking trance I seek again the Fairy Hill, The midnight feast, the glittering dance!
The wizard harpers play for me, I wear a crown upon my head, A princess in eternity, I dance and revel with the dead …
"Vain lies!" I hear the people cry, I listen to their weary truth; Then turn again to fantasy, And the untroubled Land of Youth.
I hear the laughter of the kings, I see their jewelled flagons gleam … O wine of Life! … immortal things Move in the splendour of my dream …
My spirit is a homing dove … I drain a crystal cup, and fall Softly into the arms of Love … And then the darkness covers all.