Poem by William Wordsworth

The Faëry Chasm

No fiction was it of the antique age:
A sky-blue stone, within this sunless cleft,
Is of the very footmarks unbereft
Which tiny Elves impressed; - on that smooth stage
Dancing with all their brilliant equipage
In secret revels - haply after theft
Of some sweet Babe - Flower stolen, and coarse Weed left
For the distracted Mother to assuage
Her grief with, as she might! - But, where, oh! where
Is traceable a vestige of the notes
That ruled those dances wild in character? -
Deep underground? Or in the upper air,
On the shrill wind of midnight? or where floats
O'er twilight fields the autumnal gossamer? 

1. Processions
2. Monastery of Old Bangor
3. On Revisiting Dunolly Castle
4. For the Spot Where the Hermitage Stood on St. Herbert’s Island, Derwent Water
5. Roman Antiquities

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