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The Fairy Goldsmith by Elinor Wylie
Here's a wonderful thing, A humming-bird's wing In hammered gold, And store well chosen Of snowflakes frozen In crystal cold.
Black onyx cherries And mistletoe berries Of chrysoprase, Jade buds, tight shut, All carven and cut In intricate ways.
Here, if you please Are little gilt bees In amber drops Which look like honey, Translucent and sunny, From clover-tops.
Here's an elfin girl Of mother-of-pearl And moonshine made, With tortise-shell hair Both dusky and fair In its light and shade.
Here's lacquer laid thin, Like a scarlet skin On an ivory fruit; And a filigree frost Of frail notes lost From a fairy lute.
Here's a turquoise chain Of sun-shower rain To wear if you wish; And glittering green With aquamarine, A silvery fish.
Here are pearls all strung On a thread among Pretty pink shells; And bubbles blown From the opal stone Which ring like bells.
Touch them and take them, But do not break them! Beneath your hand They will wither like foam If you carry them home Out of fairy-lannd.
O, they never can last Though you hide them fast From moth and from rust; In your monstrous day They will crumble away Into quicksilver dust.
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