It May Have Been Quixotic, But It

It May Have Been Quixotic, But It Was Magnificent.

In Time They Could Not Even Fly After Their Hats. Want Of Practice, They Called It; But What It Really Meant Was That They No Longer Believed.

Every Living Thing Was Shunning Him. Poor Little Peter Pan, He Sat Down And Cried, And Even Then He Did Not Know That, For A Bird, He Was Sitting On His Wrong Part. It Is A Blessing That He Did Not Know, For Otherwise He Would Have Lost Faith In His Power To Fly, And The Moment You Doubt Whether You Can Fly, You Cease Forever To Be Able To Do It. The Reason Birds Can Fly And We Can't Is Simply That They Have Perfect Faith, For To Have Faith Is To Have Wings.

They Hold Their Great Balls In The Open Air, In What Is Called A Fairy-ring. For Weeks Afterward You Can See The Ring On The Grass. It Is Not There When They Begin, But They Make It By Waltzing Round And Round. Sometimes You Will Find Mushrooms Inside The Ring, And These Are Fairy Chairs That The Servants Have Forgotten To Clear Away. The Chairs And The Rings Are The Only Tell-tale Marks These Little People Leave Behind Them, And They Would Remove Even These Were They Not So Fond Of Dancing That They Toe It Till The Very Moment Of The Opening Of The Gates.

On These Magic Shores Children At Play Are For Ever Beaching Their Coracles. We Too Have Been There; We Can Still Hear The Sound Of The Surf, Though We Shall Land No More.