But dropping the curtain o'er frolic and fun,
Too good to be told, or too bad to be done,
I give you a legend from Fancy's own sketch,
Though I warn you he's given to fibbing--the wretch!
Yet I learn by the legends of breezes and brooks,
'Tis as true as the fairy tales told in the books.


IV.

One night, when the moon shone fair on the main,
Choice spirits were gathered from meadow and plain--
And lightly embarking from Erin's bold cliffs,
They slid o'er the wave in their moonbeam skiffs.
A ray for a rudder--a thought for a sail--
Swift, swift was each bark as the wing of the gale.

[Illustration: Voyage of the Fairies]

Yet long were the tale,
Should I linger to say
What gambol and frolic
Enlivened the way;
How they flirted with bubbles
That danced on the wave,
Or listened to mermaids
That sang from the cave;
Or slid with the moonbeams
Down deep to the grove
Of coral, where mullet