Voices

Keveen

I heard the tinkling voices then,
Whispering with glee.
Excited little chattering
That seeked some sport with me.
They said that I had lost my mind,
My heart was stolen, gone.
That babbling, teasing little sound
Got louder and went on.
And all the other noises
That will make a forest's song,
Were drowned out by the cackling
Of the scornful fairy throng.
They called that I was lost, a fool,
Those mocking elfin sprites,
And capered oft from branch to branch,
Hopping with delight.
I smiled, indulged their fancies
And endured along the path,
And every stone did taunt my love,
And every bush did laugh.
But as I reached the stile again,
The voices semed to go;
The teasing was the peaceful brook,
The sneers, cow's gentle low,
Accusing eyes, the sun's warm face,
The jeering, magpie's bill.
I turned and touched my cap to them
And went, on fuller still.