Poem: Written for the P.O. at a Fair in Windsor, by E. B. Cutts

Written for the P.O. at a Fair in Windsor, 1853

by E.B. Cutts

[This would be Elizabeth Bartlett Cutts b. 1837 d. 1863]

I sat one day by a gurgling brook,

In a shady dell, a right pleasant nook,

From the sun I was sheltered by tall spreading trees,

And was fanned by a gentle Southern breeze,

I was watching the foam of the dashing spray,

When in a bubble so light and gay,

I saw a little water sprite,

It was very fair and of colors bright,

It’s hair was of the finest gold,

And it’s body was shaped in a tiny mould,

It sprang from it’s chariot of air

And stopped before me that being fair,

It looked like a sparkling drop of dew,

From thence to my side it quickly flew,

“Now listen” said he “to all I say”

And all my instructions most strictly obey

If you do, all will be well

But if not beware of my magic spell

You must quickly repair said the little sprite,

To Windsor, upon next Wednesday night,

For in that village there is going to be,

In the Odd Fellows Hall a grande levee,

And in the crowd you there will find,

A lovely youth of a giant mind,

His features are of the Grecian  mould,

In peace he’s gentle, in war he’s bold,

You’ll know him by his sparkling eye,

By his marble brow, so full and high,

But shrink not thou from cupids dart,

For you must yield to this youth your heart

I have found, dear Liz that this tale is true,

My heart I have lost, it is given to you,

I have watched you through the crowd so gay

And my heart will follow wherever you stray.    July 1853

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