Fairy Rings
Far and near on every hand
Fairy rings bedeck the sand,
Footprints of the sportive elves
Dancing gaily with themselves;
Hand in hand and round and round
Treading circles on the ground
Nightly, by the glow worm’s ray
To the cricket’s roundelay.
Ardently each woodland gnome
Clasps a fairy from the foam,
Waltzing till the wondering moon
Sees each circle as a rune
In a maze of mystery
For the puzzled stars to see,
While the revellers at dawn
Leave a myriad circles drawn.
Or perchance the compass grass
Whirled by wandering airs that pass
Has engraved those strange designs
In its circumscribed confines.
Archimedes never drew
Circles more exact or true
Than each needle pointed blade
Razor edged and green as jade.
Can we delve the cryptic sense
From each grooved circumference?
In the grass that etched those rings
What immortal spirit springs?
Or what inspirations stir
The bewitched geometer
To such elfin tracery
On the sands beside the sea?