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Rachel Lyman Field


I stepped into a fairy ring

Upon Midsummer Night.

I crooked my thumbs and held my breath

That I might wish aright.

The wind blew cool about my hair,

Beyond the dunes the sea

Beat soft as some far elfin drum,

And birds chirped fitfully.

The curly-fronded tips of fern

Close-pressed about my feet;

With weedy salt and rose and bay,

The air smelt keen and sweet.

Across the water lights shone clear;

The lighthouse blinked its eye,

While in the dimness of the grass

The firefly hosts went by.

I thought and thought, but nothing seemed

So good a thing to wish

As that some other night might be

As beautiful as this.