~Hilda T.Miller~

The Island

I know an island in a lake,
Green upon waters grey,
It has a strange enchanted air;
I hear the fairies singing there

When I go by that way.
They guard their hidden dwelling-place
With bands of stalwart reeds,
But sometimes, by a happy chance,
I see them all come out and dance

Upon the water-weeds.
One night, one summer night, I know
Suddenly I shall wake,
And very softly hasten down
And out beyond the sleeping town

To find my fairy lake.
I shall not need to seek a boat,
It will be moored, I think,
Within a tiny pebbled bay
Where meadow-sweet and mallow sway

Close to the water’s brink.
The moon from shore to shadowy shore
Will make a shining trail,
And I shall sing their fairy song
As joyfully I float along -
I shall not need a sail.

~Book: 
The Rose Fyleman Fairy Book by Rose Fyleman (1923)