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I found it yesterday. I found it in a little wood, Where I had gone to play. It sat upon a winding path Which led me to the door And none I'm sure but fairy folk Had travelled it before. Outside, it's just exactly like A very old oak tree, But O, the door was open, And I couldn't help but see The little mushroom tables And the little toadstool chairs, And such a funny little step That led away upstairs. A mossy rug was on the floor So very smooth and neat; I looked and thought I saw The print of fairy feet. A hammock, made of spider lace, Was swinging to and fro, To rock the fairy babies in At bedtime, don't you know. I hadn't been invited, So of course I couldn't stay; Besides, the little fairy folk All chanced to be away. And so I left a clover leaf And hung it on the wall, To tell the fairy family That I had been to call. By M. Justus Excerpt from W.B. Yeats' "The Stolen Child" To the waters and the wild With a fairy, hand in hand For the world's more full of weeping Than you can understand. A Made From Scratch (MFS) Canadian Product
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