I fell, one nigeen years ago, into he power of faery.

        I er—friends aions of my oo pick stories out of an old tryman; and    ions ed by ories of apparitions, and t us, unknoo us, to t ion of trees t made t lig see anytil oes, so far as I    recollect, looking over tones and brambles and elder-bus lig seemed, mounting up sloo lige or t last a brigorc all in suc seems all so unreal, t I ten of it until no my recolles of ty    be untrustalked it over    meagre recolles    sense of uy    day I able as s, and    aion of uy, and I remember t distiness and fideing reading under a large old-fasing a couple of yards a it I ly, ing beside my er t for some days came ots and sounds, not to me but to ts. No    ters of fire t vanis    in ty ures orees w lig?

        1902.
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