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Up the airy mountian,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather!
 
Down along the rocky shore,
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountian lake,
With frogs for their watch dogs,
All night awake.
 
High on the hill-top,
The old King sits;
He is now so old and grey ,
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music
On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again,
Her friends were all gone.
Between the night and morrow,
They thought she was fast asleep
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since.
Deep within the Lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wake.
 
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpist thorns,
In his bed at night.
  
Up the airy mountian,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
White owl's feather!...
 
"Thee Donegal Fae"
Aye!..It's a bad thing ta displeasure thee Gentry, sure enough--
They can be unfriendly if they're angered, an' they can be the very best
o' gude neighbors if they're treated kindly!
My mother's sister was lone in thee house one day, wi' a' big pot o' water
boiling on thee fire, and ane o' thee Fae Folk, fell down thee chimney,
an slipped wi' his leg in thee hot, boilin' water.
He let a terrible squeal out o' him, an' in a minute thee house was full o'
wee Fae crathurs pullin' him out o' thee pot, an' carrying him 'çross
thee floor. "Did she scald you?" my aunt heard them sayin' to him. "Na, na,
it was mesel' scalded my ainsel', quoth thee Fae fellow. "Ä weel, a weel,"
says they, "Ïf it was your ainsel' scalded yerself', we'll say nuthin', but if
she had scalded thee, we'd ha' made her pay!