1.The Leprechaun: The one shoemaker seen mending shoes.Catch him and get crocks of gold.A thrifty professional.Take your eyes off of him and he vanishes. Red Coat seven buttons in each row and he spins sometimes on the point of a cocked hat.

2.The Cluricaun: Robbing wine cellars and riding sheep and shepherds dogs the live long night-found panting and mud covered in the morning.

3.The Gonconer(Ganconagh)-Love talker,Idler,appears making love to shepherdesses and milkmaids -smokes a pipe.

4.The Fear Darrig-Red man,Joker gives evil dreams

5.The Pooka-A horse ass etc... takes rider on a wild ride and shakes him off in the grey of morning especially drunkards-a drunkards sleep is his kingdom.When it rains with sun shining that means he will be out that night. When berries are killed by frost it is the Pooka's spit which is upon them and they should not be eaten.

6.The Dullahan-Headless or carrying his head.Black coach a bower with headless horses it goes to your door and if you open it a basin of blood is thrown at you-death omen.

7.Leanhaun Shee-Fairy mistresses seeks love of men-if they refuse she is their slave -If they consent they are hers-her lovers waste away -you must find one to go in your place.

8.The Fear Gorta-Man of hunger-brings good luck to those who give him food.

9.Banshee-Fairy woman -morning-wails over dead and calls for them.

10.The Fear Sidhe: Male Fairy (there are also fairies for parts and aspects of the home,for water(sherie) light Soullh and a host of lake fairies,dragons and ghosts)

	Up the airy mountain,
	  Down the rushy glen,
	We daren't go a-hunting
	  For fear of little men;
	Wee folk, good folk, 
	  Trooping all together;
	Green jacket, red cap,
	  And white owl's feather!
	
	Down along the rocky shore
	  Some make their home,
	They live on crispy pancakes
	  Of yellow tide-foam;
	Some in the reeds
	  Of the black mountain-lake,
	With frogs for their watch-dogs,
	  All night awake.
	
	High on the hill-top
	  The old King sits;
	He is now so old and gray
	  He's nigh lost his wits.
	
	With a bridge of white mist
	  Columbkill he crosses
	On his stately journeys
	  From Slieveleague to Rosses;
	Or going up with music
	  On cold starry nights,
	To sup with the Queen
	  Of the gay Northern Lights.
	
	They stole little Bridget
	  For seven years long;
	When she came down again
	  Her friends were all gone.
	They took her lightly back,
	  Between the night and morrow,
	
	They thought that she was fast asleep,
	  But she was dead with sorrow.
	They have kept her ever since
	  Deep within the lake,
	On a bed of flag-leaves,
	  Watching till she wake.
	
	By the craggy hill-side,
	  Through the mosses bare,
	They have planted thorn-trees
	  For pleaseure here and there.
	Is any man so daring
	  As to dig one up in spite,
	He shall find the thornies set
	  In his bed at night.
	
	Up the airy mountain,
	  Down the rushy glen,
	We daren't go a-hunting
	  For fear of little men;
	Wee folk, good folk,
	  Trooping all together;
	Green jacket, red cap,
	  And white owl's feather!

Inchly finchly,
rhythm and light
Strange are the creatures
that roam the night
Only to behold
that which is mine,
only to behold
the sacred Shyme

The outer being
has not yet the eyes of the night
A thousand trifold
With a will that just might
I am the sprite
of what has become
the ultimate test
The Belief of some
The night has no voice
It has no light
The night says UNTIL
and wait you that it might
If only for an evening
If only for this time
Broken in circle
Found in a Rhyme
The Will of my wisdom
Has given to ways
For the nights are always followed
By Infinite Days
© by L.C. White