The Sun was low and the winds were still,
And never a whispering branch I heard
Nor even the tiniest call of a bird.
And when I came to the topmost height
Oh! but I saw such a wonderful sight,
All about on the hill-crest there
The fairies danced in the golden air,
Danced and frolicked with never a sound
In and out in a magical round;
Wider and wider the circle grew
Then suddenly melted into the blue.
As I walked down into Eastnor Vale
The stars already were twinkling pale,
And over the spaces of dew-white grass
I saw a marvellous pageant pass –
Tiny riders on tiny steeds
Decked with blossoms and armed with reeds
With gossamer banners floating far
And a radiant queen in an ivory car.
The beeches spread their petticoats wide
And curtsied low upon either side;
The rabbits scurried across the glade
To peep at the glittering cavalcade.
Far and farther I saw them go
And vanish into the woods below;
Then over the shadowy woodland ways
I wandered home in sweet amaze.
But Malvern people need fear no ill
Since fairies bide in their country still.
R.F. – in ‘Punch’, Aug. 28, 1918.
(Taken from ‘Eastnor and its Malvern Hills’ by Henry L. Somers-Cocks, M.A. – 1923)
Eastnor Deer Park
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