Front:
53
Ye olde Washington Inn
Back:
The Fireplace at Ye Washington Inn
(Maplewood)
N moonlight nights, thin fairy sprites,
Steal to the fire place.
And with their wondrous artistry.
Weave strands of filmy lace.
And as the wreaths of smoke ascend-
With mystic craftsmanship they bend
Their fingers to the pleasing task,
And weave for us a fire mask.
With noses red and eyes aflame,
Like Ogres with an unknown name,
We stare upon the burning mass,
As in a fairy looking-glass.
Then in the Dreamland of Delights,
The teasing, tired fairy sprites
Alight upon our ears and say-
"It's time for bed," then fly away.
We then obey, in dreams we see,
The fairies dance in ecstasy,
Upon the hearstone flaming lips,
Sail, tiny full-rigged fairy ships.
WILLIAM THOMPSON.
