Faerie's Fall

The stream did glisten 'neath the sun
And all about the trees
Did sparkle; oh! The day was young,
And life was in the breeze.
The crimson leaves did shimmer, and
The birds did joyous sing.
And bliss lay deep upon the land
Of Maeve, the faerie queen.

Within the aged wood did grow
A bower, dark and deep.
And thence a faerie child could go
And watch the maiden sleep.
With molten moonlight for her hair,
On cloth of purest white,
Oh! Never had one been so fair
As Maeve, the Queen of Light.

And all in innocence she lay
All free of care or strife;
The greatest treasure of the fae
Knew none would take her life.
Yet, guard your bower, leave no trace,
The Elder fae had told;
For should a mortal see your face
A dark fate shall unfold.

Then lo! The rustling of the trees!
The faerie queen did wake:
No beast, nor bird, nor errant breeze
Would thus her silence break.
She gazed behind the trees, to spy
A mortal, strong and tall.
Her silver eyes met bluest sky,
And Maeve the fair did fall.

"Oh, tell me, sir!" She did exclaim,
And slowly she arose.
"From whence you came, and tell your name,
And why this glen you chose."
Her knees did nervous tremble, and
She knew this was her fate:
Though mortal blood did fill the man
The queen had found her mate.

"My name," his voice did offer then,
Mellifluous and deep,
"Is Conor, son of Ciaran,
From Diarmuid’s keep.
But tell me why you slumber here,
Where nature's wrath doth roam;
For sure, for such a maiden fair,
A palace should be home?"

"Oh, Conor," did the faerie laugh,
With joy her face aglow,
"I choose to walk a different path,
I choose to nature know.
I choose to wander here among
The eagles and the deer;
In stonework could I ne’er belong.
I know my place is here."

"But come with me, my love," said she,
"We’ll roam the mountains high.
The wonders of the world we’ll see,
And never will we die.
Oh, take my hand and come with me!
And say you’ll never leave.
For never lonely will we be
If you will stay with me."

Her arms did reach towards him, while
He softly she embraced.
But when she looked into his eyes,
Pure sorrow filled his face.
But never would the faerie cry,
Though now she knew her fate:
"I never saw so fair a guise,
But for Niamh I wait."

"Her heart is pure and kind and sweet,
And gentle is her voice.
Oh, never had I thought to be
My loving maiden’s choice.
Her eyes do spark with humour, and,
Although her face is scarred,
To me there is no sweeter maid.
Niamh has claimed my heart."

And Maeve did gentle smile, although
Her heart did aching cry.
She knew that she would let him go;
She could not live a lie.
"Go to your love," she softly said.
And sadly did he leave.
For though he feared to hurt the maid,
He would not leave Niamh.

And then upon the bower green,
Her lonely tears did fall.
And in her clearing, all unseen,
Her heart did aching call.
Come back my love, don’t leave me here!
But never soul did come,
And lonely slumbered Maeve the fair
'Til all her days were done.

The stream did glisten 'neath the sun
And all about the trees
Did sparkle; oh! The day was young,
And life was in the breeze.
But sadness filled the forest, and,
The birds did mournful sing,
For nevermore would shine the land
Of Maeve, the faerie queen.