The Others

From our hidden places,   By a secret path, We come in the moonlight   To the side of the green rath. There the night through   We take our pleasure, Dancing to such a measure   As earth never knew. To dance and lilt   And song without a name, So sweetly chanted   ’Twould put a bird to shame. And many a maiden   Is there, of mortal birth, Her young eyes laden   With dreams of earth. Music so piercing wild   And forest-sweet would bring Silence on blackbirds singing   Their best in the ear of spring. And many a youth entrancèd   Moves slow in the dreamy round, His brave lost feet enchanted   With the rhythm of faery sound. Oh, many a thrush and blackbird   Would fall to the dewy ground, And pine away in silence   For envy of such a sound. So the night through,   In our sad pleasure, We dance to many a measure   That earth never knew.