Merry Midsummer Eve!

Hello everyone –



TONIGHT – Tuesday, June 23^rd – is Midsummer Eve, a traditional holiday that celebrates the long days and short nights of summertime with bonfires, dancing, feasting, and singing under the stars. In areas north of 50 degrees latitude, the night sky never becomes completely dark at the Summer Solstice (which took place last Saturday, June 20^th @ 4:44 PM CDT), resulting in a faint twilight glow that lingers all through the night.



In European folklore, it was believed that Midsummer Eve was when all the Fair Folk (elves, faeries, dryads, etc.) held midnight revels to celebrate the high point of the year. (This folk belief is reflected in Shakespeare’s comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.) So in this annual Midsummer edition of Quotemail, we have some poems about things that one might expect to see on Midsummer Eve – Fair Folk, fireflies, and all things enchanting!



“The Faery Book”

By Abbie Farwell Brown (1871-1927)



When Mother takes the Faery Book

And we curl up to hear,

'Tis "All aboard for Faeryland!"

Which seems to be so near.



For soon we reach the pleasant place

Of Once Upon a Time,

Where birdies sing the hour of day,

And flowers talk in rhyme;



Where Bobby is a velvet Prince,

And where I am a Queen;

Where one can talk with animals,

And walk about unseen;



Where Little People live in nuts,

And ride on butterflies,

And wonders kindly come to pass

Before your very eyes;



Where candy grows on every bush,

And playthings on the trees,

And visitors pick basketfuls

As often as they please.



It is the nicest time of day -

Though Bedtime is so near, -

When Mother takes the Faery Book

And we curl up to hear.



“The Flowers”

By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

From A Child's Garden of Verses (1885)



All the names I know from nurse:

Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,

Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,

And the Lady Hollyhock.



Faery places, faery things,

Faery woods where the wild bee wings,

Tiny trees for tiny dames--

These must all be faery names!



Tiny woods below whose boughs

Shady faeries weave a house;

Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,

Where the braver faeries climb!



Fair are grown-up people's trees,

But the fairest woods are these;

Where, if I were not so tall,

I should live for good and all.



“The Firefly”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)


Flash and flicker and fly away,
Trailing light as you flutter far,
Are you a lamp for the faeries, say?
Or a flake of fire from a falling star?



“Faery Rings”

By Evaleen Stein

[This poem explains how people before the Space Age explained the origin of “crop circles.” Truly, there’s nothing new under the Sun! – RHC] J



Softly in the gloaming
Flitting through the vale,
Faery folk are roaming
Over hill and dale.

Pixies in the hollow,
Elves upon the height,
Let us follow, follow
Through the paling light.

Follow, all unbidden,
To the grassy glade
Wrapped around and hidden
In the forest shade.

Hark the elfin tinkle
Of their little lutes!
Mark the golden twinkle
Of their faery flutes!

See them dancing, dancing,
While the silver moon
Tips their swiftly glancing
Little silver shoon!

Tripping, tripping lightly,
Where their footprints fall,
Look! the grass is brightly
Growing green and tall!

Springing close, unbroken,
In a faery ring,
For tomorrow’s token
Of their frolicking!



“What If?”

By Evaleen Stein

[Look for the waxing crescent Moon just after sunset, in the twilit western sky tonight. – RHC]



When I see the new moon lightly

  Through cloud ripples slip,

Then I'm sure that shining brightly

  It's a faery ship!



What if in it we were sailing

  Far and far away,

With a wake of silver trailing,

  Till the golden day?



Why, we'd fly back home together

  Safely from the sky,

For the Moon's a faery feather

  When the Sun is high!



“Faeries”

By Evaleen Stein



Grandfather says that sometimes,

  When stars are twinkling and

A new moon shines, there come times

  When folks see faery-land!



So when there's next a new moon,

  I mean to watch all night!

Grandfather says a blue moon

  Is best for faery light,



And in a peach-bloom, maybe,

  If I look I shall see

A little faery baby

  No bigger than a bee!



“Faery Song” (Excerpted from Flower Fables, 1855)

By Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)



The moonlight fades from flower and tree,

And the stars dim one by one;

The tale is told, the song is sung,

And the Faery feast is done.

The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers,

And sings to them, soft and low.

The early birds erelong will wake:

‘Tis time for the Elves to go.

        

O’er the sleeping earth we silently pass,

Unseen by mortal eye,

And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float

Through the quiet moonlit sky;--

For the stars’ soft eyes alone may see,

And the flowers alone may know,

The feasts we hold, the tales we tell:

So ‘tis time for the Elves to go.

        

From bird, and blossom, and bee,

We learn the lessons they teach;

And seek, by kindly deeds, to win

A loving friend in each.

And though unseen on earth we dwell,

Sweet voices whisper low,

And gentle hearts most joyously greet

The Elves where’er they go.

        

When next we meet in the Faery dell,

May the silver moon’s soft light

Shine then on faces gay as now,

And Elfin hearts as light.

Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky

With sunlight soon will glow.

The morning star shall light us home:

Farewell! for the Elves must go.




DEDICATION

This Merry Midsummer Eve edition of Quotemail is dedicated to all my friends at the Center for Children’s Books at the University of Illinois. Please visit them @ http://ccb.ischool.illinois.edu to learn more about their programs and publications highlighting the best new literature for children and young adults.



Merry Midsummer Eve, everyone! J



Rob