Forth from their flowery chambers, nothing loth,
With lulling tunes to charm the air serener,
Or dance upon the grass to make it greener."


C.

"These be the pretty genii of the flow'rs,
Daintily fed with honey and pure dew--
Midsummer's phantoms in her dreaming hours,
King Oberon, and all his merry crew,
The darling puppets of romance's view;
Fairies, and sprites, and goblin elves we call them,
Famous for patronage of lovers true;--
No harm they act, neither shall harm befall them,
So do not thus with crabbed frowns appal them."


CI.

O what a cry was Saturn's then!--it made
The fairies quake. "What care I for their pranks,
However they may lovers choose to aid,
Or dance their roundelays on flow'ry banks?--
Long must they dance before they earn my thanks,--
So step aside, to some far safer spot,
Whilst with my hungry scythe I mow their ranks,
And leave them in the sun, like weeds, to rot,
And with the next day's sun to be forgot."