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"By the rushy-fringèd bank

Where grows the Willow and the Osier dank,
My sliding Chariot stayes,

Thick set with Agat, and the azurn sheen
Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green

That in the channell strayes,
Whilst from off the waters fleet

Thus I set my printless feet
O're the Cowslips Velvet head,

That bends not as I tread,
Gentle swain at thy request
I am here."

JOHN MILTON

139 NOW THE HUNGRY LION ROARS

"Now the hungry Lyon rores,

And the Wolfe behowls the Moone:
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary taske fordone.
Now the wasted brands doe glow,
Whil'st the scritch-owle scritching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shrowd.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his spright,
In the Church-way paths to glide.
And we Fairies, that do runne
By the triple Hecate's teame,
From the presence of the Sunne,
Following darknesse like a dreame,
Now are frollicke; not a Mouse
Shall disturbe this hallowed house.

I am sent with broome before,

To sweep the dust behinde the doore."

"Through the house give glimmering light,
By the dead and drowsie fier;

Everie Elfe and Fairie spright

Hop as light as bird from brier! . . ."

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

140

THE FAIRIES FEAST

... Awn. Who feasts tonight?

Some Elves. Prince Olbin is troth-plight

To Rosalind, daughter of the Faery Queen.

Other Elves. She's a mannikin changeling; her name shows it.

Other Elves. We have heard tell; that she as dream is fair.
I've heard old Paigle say, fays gave for her
To humans, in the cradle, Moonsheen bright.

Awn.

Other Elves. And Eglantine should wedded be this night,
To Ivytwine, in the laughing full moon.

Moth.

Howt.

I was there and saw it: on hoar roots,
All gnarled and knotty, of an antique oak,
Crowned, some with plighted frets of violets

sweet;

...

Other, with flower-cups many-hewed, had dight
Their locks of gold; the gentle faeries sate:
All in their watchet cloaks: were dainty mats
Spread under them, of dwarve-wives rushen work:
And primroses were strewed before their feet.
They at banquet sate, from dim of after-noon...
(Enter more elves running.)

Whence come ye foothot?

One of the new-come Elves. O Awn, O Howt!

Not past a league from hence, lies close-cropped

plot,

Where purple milkworts blow, which conies haunt,

haunt,

Elves.

Awn.

Elves.

Awn.

Elves.

Amidst the windy heath. We saw gnomes dance

dance

There; that not bigger been than harvest mice.
Some of their heads were deckt, as seemed to us,
With moonbeams bright: and those to-night hold

feast:

Though in them there none utterance is of speech.

Be those our mother's cousins, dainty of grace:
But seld now, in a moonlight, are they seen.
They live not longer than do humble been.

We saw of living herb, intressed with moss,
Their small wrought cabins open on the grass.

Other, in gossamer bowers, wonne underclod.

And each gnome held in hand a looking glass; Wherein he keeked, and kissed oft the Moons face.

Are they a faery offspring, without sex,
Of the stars' rays.

They'd wings on their flit feet;

That seemed, in their oft shining, glancing drops
Of rain, which beat on bosom of the grass:

Wherein be some congealed as adamant.

We stooped to gaze (a neighbour tussock hid
us,)

On sight so fair: their beauty being such,
That seemed us it all living thought did pass.
Yet were we spied! for looked down full upon us,
Disclosing then murk skies, Moons clear still face.
In that they shrunk back, and clapped to their

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