Long, long ago, in ancient times, there lived a King and Queen,
And for the blessing of a child their longing sore had been:
At last, a little daughter fair, to their great joy, was given,
And to the christening feast they made, they bade the Fairies seven—

The Fairies seven, who loved the land—that they the child might bless,
Yet one old Fairy they left out, in pure forgetfulness.
And at the feast, the dishes fair were of the reddest gold;
But when the Fairy came, not one for her, so bad and old,
Angry was she, because her place and dish had been forgot,
And angry things she muttered long, and kept her anger hot.

Until the Fairy godmothers their gifts and wishes gave:
She waited long to spoil the gifts, and her revenge to have.
One gave the Princess goodness, and one gave her beauty rare;
One gave her sweetest singing voice; one, gracious mien and air;
One, skill in dancing; one, all cleverness; and then the crone
Came forth, and muttered, angry still, and good gift gave she none;

But said, that in the future years the Princess young should die,
By pricking of a spindle-point—ah, woeful prophecy!
But now, a kind young