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Poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt


Song of Fairies Robbing an Orchard


We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.

When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing. 



James Henry Leigh Hunt


James Henry Leigh Hunt's other poems:
  1. Robin Hood, a Child
  2. A Thought or Two on Reading Pomfret's
  3. Ariadne Waking
  4. To Robert Batty, M.D., on His Giving Me a Lock of Milton's Hair
  5. The Field of Battle


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