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WEIRD AND FANTASTIC.

THE FAIRY QUEEN.
COME, follow, follow me—
You, fairy elves that be,
Which circle on the green-

Come, follow Mab, your queen!
Hand in hand let's dance around,
For this place is fairy ground.

When mortals are at rest,
And snoring in their nest,
Unheard and unespied,
Through keyholes we do glide;
Over tables, stools, and shelves,
We trip it with our fairy elves.

And if the house be foul
With platter, dish, or bowl,
Up stairs we nimbly creep,
And find the sluts asleep;

There we pinch their arms and thighs-
None escapes, nor none espies.

But if the house be swept,
And from uncleanness kept,
We praise the household maid,
And duly she is paid;
For we use, before we go,
To drop a tester in her shoe.

Upon a mushroom's head
Our tablecloth we spread;
A grain of rye or wheat
Is manchet, which we eat;
Pearly drops of dew we drink,
In acorn cups, fill'd to the brink.

The brains of nightingales,
With unctuous fat of snails,
Between two cockles stew'd,
Is meat that's easily chew'd;
Tails of worms, and marrow of mice,
Do make a dish that's wondrous nice.

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OVER HILL, OVER DALE.

FROM "A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM."

OVER hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon'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 dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

ARIEL'S SONGS. FROM "THE TEMPEST."

I.

COME unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,—

The wild waves whist,

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden 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.

II.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade

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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 lakes,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wakes.

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THE RAPE OF THE LOCK.

AN HEROI-COMICAL POEM.
Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos;
Sed juvat hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.-MART.

CANTO I.

WHAT dire offence from amorous causes springs,

What mighty contests rise from trivial
things,

I sing This verse to Caryl, muse! is due;
This, e'en Belinda may vouchsafe to view;
Slight is the subject, but not so the praise,
If she inspire, and he approve my lays.

Say what strange motive, goddess! could
compel

A well-bred lord t' assault a gentle belle?
Oh, say what stranger cause, yet unex-
plored,

Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?
In tasks so bold can little men engage,
And in soft bosoms dwell such mighty rage?
Sol through white curtains shot a timor-

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And the press'd watch returned a silver
sound.

Belinda still her downy pillow prest-
Her guardian sylph prolong'd the balmy
rest;

'Twas he had summon'd to her silent bed
The morning-dream that hover'd o'er her
head:

A youth more glittering than a birthnight

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Of airy elves by moonlight shadows seen,
The silver token, and the circled green;
Or virgins visited by angel powers
With golden crowns and wreaths of heav-
enly flowers-

Hear and believe! thy own importance know,

Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.

Some secret truths, from learned pride concealed,

To maids alone and children are reveal'd:

What though no credit doubting wits may give?

The fair and innocent shall still believe. Know, then, unnumber'd spirits round thee fly

The light militia of the lower sky: These, though unseen, are ever on the wing,

Hang o'er the box, and hover round the ring.

Think what an equipage thou hast in air, And view with scorn two pages and a chair.

As now your own, our beings were of old, And once enclosed in woman's beauteous

mould;

Thence, by a soft transition, we repair
From earthly vehicles to these of air.
Think not, when woman's transient breath
is fled,

That all her vanities at once are dead;
Succeeding vanities she still regards,
And, though she plays no more, o'erlooks

the cards.

Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive, And love of ombre, after death survive; For when the fair in all their pride expire,

"Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste

Rejects mankind, is by some sylph embraced:

For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with

ease

Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.

What guards the purity of melting maids, In courtly balls and midnight masquerades, Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark,

The glance by day, the whisper in the dark

When kind occasion prompts their warm desires,

When music softens, and when dancing fires?

"Tis but their sylph, the wise celestials know,

Though honor is the word with men below.

"Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face,

For life predestined to the gnome's embrace;

These swell their prospects and exalt their

pride,

When offers are disdain'd, and love de

nied;

Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain, While peers, and dukes, and all their

sweeping train,

And garters, stars, and coronets appear, And in soft sounds Your Grace' salutes

their ear.

'Tis these that early taint the female soul,

Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to

roll;

Teach infant cheeks a bidden blush to

know,

And little hearts to flutter at a beau.

"Oft when the world imagine women stray,

To their first elements their souls retire,
The sprites of fiery termagants in flame
Mount up, and take a salamander's name;
Soft yielding minds to water glide away,
And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea; The sylphs through mystic mazes guide
The graver prude sinks downward to a

gnome

their way;

Through all the giddy circle they pursue.

In search of mischief still on earth to And old impertinence expel by new.

roam;

The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of air.

What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat, but for another's

ball?

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