Poetry Archives

Cherries of the night are riper
   Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
   When he pipes his magic tune:
      Merry, merry,
      Take a cherry;
      Mine are sounder,
      Mine are rounder,
      Mine are sweeter
      For the eater
      Under the moon.
   And you’ll be fairies soon.

In the cherry pluckt at night,
   With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
   Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
      Merry, merry,
      Take a cherry;
      Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder
      Mine are sweeter
      For the eater
      In the moonlight.
  And you’ll be fairies quite.

When I sound the fairy call,
  Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
  Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
    Merry, merry,
    Take a cherry;
    Mine are sounder,
    Mine are rounder,
    Mine are sweeter.
    For the eater
    When the dews fall.
  And you’ll be fairies all.