The Silver Birch Fairy

There’s a gentle tree with a satiny bark,
All silver-white, and upon it, dark,
Is many a crosswise line and mark—
She’s a tree there’s no mistaking!
The Birch is this light and lovely tree,
And as light and lovely still is she
When the Summer’s time has come to flee,
As she was at Spring’s awaking.
She has new Birch-catkins, small and tight,
Though the old ones scatter
and take their flight,
And the little leaves, all yellow and bright,
In the autumn winds are shaking.
And with fluttering wings
and hands that cling,
The fairies play and the fairies swing
On the fine thin twigs,
that will toss and spring
With never a fear of breaking.