I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moonè's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors,

In those freckles live their savors:
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

II

From "A Midsummer-Night's Dream"

You spotted snakes with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong; Come not near our fairy queen.

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!

Never harm,

Nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;
So, good night, with lullaby.

Weaving spiders, come not here;

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm nor snail, do no offence.

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!

Never harm,

Nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good-night, with lullaby.

Queen Mab

225

III

From "The Tempest"

COME unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kissed,—

The wild waves whist,-

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Hark, hark!

Bow, wow,

The watch-dogs bark:

Bow, wow.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!

IV

From "The Tempest"

WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I:

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly

After summer merrily:

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. William Shakespeare [1564-1616]

QUEEN MAB

From "The Satyr"

THIS is Mab, the Mistress-Fairy,
That doth nightly rob the dairy
And can hurt or help the churning,
As she please without discerning.

She that pinches country wenches
If they rub not clean their benches,

And with sharper nails remembers
When they rake not up their embers:
But if so they chance to feast her,
In a shoe she drops a tester.

This is she that empties cradles,
Takes out children, puts in ladles:
Trains forth old wives in their slumber
With a sieve the holes to number;
And then leads them from her burrows,
Home through ponds and water-furrows.

She can start our Franklins' daughters,
In their sleep, with shrieks and laughters:
And on sweet Saint Anna's night
Feed them with a promised sight,

Some of husbands, some of lovers,

Which an empty dream discovers.

Ben Jonson [1573?-1637]

THE PALACE OF THE FAIRIES

From "Nymphidia"

THIS palace standeth in the air,

By necromancy placed there,

That it no tempest needs to fear,

Which way soc'er it blow it.

And somewhat southward toward the noon,
Whence lies a way up to the moon,
And thence the fairy can as soon
Pass to the earth below it.

The walls of spiders' legs are made
Well mortised and finely laid;
He was the master of his trade,

It curiously that builded;
The windows of the eyes of cats,
And for the roof, instead of slats,
Is covered with the skins of bats,

With moonshine that are gilded.

Michael Drayton [1563-1631]

Fairy Song

227

"OH! WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR

HEADS?"

OH! where do fairies hide their heads,

When snow lies on the hills,

When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,
And crystallized their rills?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip
In circles o'er the plain;

And draughts of dew they cannot sip,
Till green leaves come again.

Perhaps, in small, blue diving-bells
They plunge beneath the waves,
Inhabiting the wreathed shells
That lie in coral caves.
Perhaps, in red Vesuvius

Carousals they maintain;

And cheer their little spirits thus,
Till green leaves come again.

When they return, there will be mirth

And music in the air.

And fairy wings upon the earth,

And mischief everywhere.

The maids, to keep the elves aloof,
Will bar the doors in vain;
No key-hole will be fairy-proof,
When green leaves come again.

Thomas Haynes Bayly [1797-1839]

FAIRY SONG

From "Amyntas"

WE the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,

Though the moonshine mostly keep us,

Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen be your apples.

When to bed the world is bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;

Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling
Were it not for stealing, stealing.

Translated by Leigh Hunt from the Latin of Thomas Randolph

FAIRY SONG

HAVE ye left the greenwood lone?

Are your steps forever gone?

Fairy King and Elfin Queen,

Come ye to the sylvan scene,

[1605-1635]

From your dim and distant shore,

Never more?

Shall the pilgrim never hear

With a thrill of joy and fear,
In the hush of moonlight hours,
Voices from the folded flowers,
Faint sweet flutter-notes as of yore,
Never more?

"Mortal! ne'er shall bowers of earth
Hear again our midnight mirth:
By our brooks and dingles green
Since unhallowed steps have been,
Ours shall thread the forests hoar
Never more.

"Ne'er on earth-born lily's stem
Will we hang the dewdrop's gem;
Ne'er shall reed or cowslip's head
Quiver to our dancing tread,
By sweet fount or murmuring shore,

Never more!"

Felicia Dorothea Hemans [1793-1835]