Fairies, take Care

A thousand blessings, Puck, on you

For knotting that long grass which threw

Into my arts a maid; for we

Have told our love and kissed, and she

Will lie a-bed in a sweet fright.

So, all ye Fairies who to-night

May take that stormy passage where

Her bosom’s quicksands are, take care

Of whirlpools too: beware all you

OF that great tempest Love must brew.

The waves will rock your breath near out;

First sunk, then tossed and rolled about,

Now on your heads, now on your feet—

You’ll be near swamped and, for life sweet,

Be glad to cross that stormy main,

And stand on something firm again.

Would I could see her while she sleeps,

And smiles to feel you climb those steeps,

Where you at last will stand up clear

Upon their cherry taps, and cheer.

And that ye are not lost, take care,

In that deep forest of her hair:

Yet ye may enter naked stark,

It gets more warm as it gets dark.

So, Fairies, fear not any harm,

While in those woods so dark and warm.