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[Newspaper clipping]

Alms in Autumn.
Spindle_wood, spindle-wood will you
lend me, pray,
A little flaming lantern to guide me on
my way?
The fairies all have vanished from the
meadow and the glen,
And I would fain go seeking till I find
them once again.
Lend me now a lantern that I may
bear a light,
To find the hidden pathway in the
darkness of the night.

Ash-tree, ash-tree, throw me, if you
please,
Throw me down a slender branch of
russet-golden keys,
I fear the gates of Fairyland may all
be shut so fast
That nothing but your magic keys will
ever take me past,
I'll tie them to my girdle and as I go
along
My heart will find a comfort in the
tinkle of their song.

Holly-bush, Holly-bush, help me in my
task,
A pocketful of berries is all the the
alms I ask;
A pocketful of berries to thread in
golden strands,
I would not go a-visiting with nothing
in my hands--
So fine will be the rosy chains, so gay,
so glossy bright,
They'll set the realms of fairyland a
dancing with delight.

--Rose Fylem