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A
Friendly Encounter
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I heard along the early hills,
Ere yet the lark was risen up, Ere yet the dawn with firelight fills The night-dew of the bramble-cup, I heard the fairies in a ring, Sing as they tripped a lilting round Soft as the moon on wavering wing, The starlight shook as if with sound, As if with echoing, and the stars Prankt their bright eyes with trembling gleams; While red with war the gusty Mars Rained upon earth his ruddy beams, He shone alone, low down the West, While I, behind a hawthorn bush, Watched on the fairies flaxen-tressed The first of the morning flush, Till, as a mist, their beauty died, Their singing shrill and fainter grew; And daylighty tremulous and wide Flooded the moorland through and through; Till Urdon's copper weathercock Was reared in a golden flame afar, And dim from moonlit dreams awoke The towers and groves of Arroar. The Fairies Dancing
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