Mansfield presents the coming of night as a spellbound fairy-tale moment. The “Tree of Day” folds its blossoms back into buds, as if the daytime world is quietly closing itself away. The bees that might have visited in warm golden hours are shut out; everything grows still and sealed. Then a strange, mournful music drifts from “shadow towers” and “shadow ships,” announcing the Queen of Night. Dark princesses flutter from hidden places and fly toward their ancient mother in her vast home. The speaker doesn’t explain who these figures are, which makes them feel like dreamlike presences rather than literal characters. The mood is hushed, mysterious, slightly eerie, and full of reverence — evening becomes not just a time of day, but a secret ritual.
Fairy Tale — Summary
Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers, And every bloom becomes a bud again, Shut and sealed up against the golden showers Of bees that hover in the velvet hours.... Now a strain Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers, Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam, Proclaims the Queen of Night. From their bowers The dark Princesses fluttering, wing their flight To their old Mother, in her huge old home.