Classic Poem

OR, THE LADY IN THE ARBOR

A VISION [OUT OF CHAUCER]

Now turning from the wintry signs, the sun
His course exalted thro' the Ram had run,
And, whirling up the skies, his chariot drove
Thro' Taurus and the lightsome realms of love;
Where Venus from her orb descends in show'rs,
To glad the ground, and paint the fields with flow'rs:
When first the tender blades of grass appear,
And buds, that yet the blast of Eurus fear,
Stand at the door of life, and doubt to clothe the year;
Till gentle heat and soft repeated rains
Make the green blood to dance within their veins:
Then, at their call, embolden'd out they come,
And swell the gems and burst the narrow room;
Broader and broader yet, their blooms display,
Salute the welcome sun, and entertain the day.
Then from their breathing souls the sweet-repair
To scent the skies, and purge th' unwholesome air;
Joy spreads the heart, and, with a general song,
Spring issues out and leads the jolly months along.
In that sweet season, as in bed I lay
And sought in sleep to pass the night away,
I turn'd my weary side, but still in vain,
Tho' full of youthful health, and void of pain:
Cares I had none, to keep me from my rest,
For love had never enter'd in my breast;
I wanted nothing Fortune could supply,
Nor did she slumber till that hour deny.
I wonder'd then, but after found it true,
Much joy had dried away the balmy dew:
Seas would be pools, without the brushing air
To curl the waves; and sure some little care
Should weary Nature so, to make her want repair.
When Chanticleer the second watch had sung,
Scorning the scorner sleep, from bed I sprung;
And dressing, by the moon, in loose array,
Pass'd out in open air, preventing day,
And sought a goodly grove, as fancy led my way.
Straight as a line in beauteous order stood
Of oaks unshorn a venerable wood:
Fresh was the grass beneath; and ev'ry tree,
At distance planted in a due degree,
Their branching arms in air with equal space
Stretch'd to their neighbors with a long embrace;
And the new leaves on ev'ry bough were seen,
Some ruddy-color'd, some of lighter green.
The painted birds, companions of the spring,
Hopping from spray to spray, were heard to sing;
Both eyes and ears receiv'd a like delight,
Enchanting music, and a charming sight.
On Philomel I fix'd my whole desire,
And listen'd for the queen of all the choir;
Fain would I hear her heav'nly voice to sing;
And wanted yet an omen to the spring.
Attending long in vain, I took the way,
Which thro' a path but scarcely printed lay;
In narrow mazes oft it seem'd to meet,
And look'd as lightly press'd by hairy feet.
Wand'ring I walk'd alone, for still me-thought
To some strange end so strange a path was wrought;
At last it led me where an arbor stood,
The sacred receptacle of the wood.
This place unmark'd, tho' oft I walk'd the green,
In all my progress I had never seen;
And, seiz'd at once with wonder and delight,
Gaz'd all around me, new to the transporting sight.
'T was bench'd with turf, and goodly to be seen,
The thick young grass arose in fresher green:
The mound was newly made, no sight could pass
Betwixt the nice partitions of the grass;
The well-united sods so closely lay,
And all around the shades defended it from day,
For sycamores with eglantine were spread,
A hedge about the sides, a covering over head.
And so the fragrant brier was wove between,
The sycamore and flow'rs were mix'd with green,
That nature seem'd to vary the delight,
And satisfied at once the smell and sight.
The master workman of the bow'r was known
Thro' fairy lands, and built for Oberon;
Who twining leaves with such proportion drew,
They rose by measure, and by rule they grew:
No mortal tongue can half the beauty tell,
For none but hands divine could work so well.
Both roof and sides were like a parlor made,
A soft recess, and a cool summer shade:
The hedge was set so thick, no foreign eye
The persons plac'd within it could espy;
But all that pass'd without with ease was seen,
As if nor fence nor tree was plac'd between.
'T was border'd with a field; and some was plain
With grass, and some was sow'd with rising grain,
That (now the dew with spangles deck'd the ground)
A sweeter spot of earth was never found.
I look'd and look'd, and still with new delight;
Such joy my soul, such pleasures fill'd my sight:
And the fresh eglantine exhal'd a breath,
Whose odors were of pow'r to raise from death.
Nor sullen discontent, nor anxious care,
Ev'n tho' brought thither, could inhabit there;
But thence they fled as from their mortal foe,
For this sweet place could only pleasure know.
Thus, as I mus'd, I cast aside my eye,
And saw a medlar tree was planted nigh.
The spreading branches made a goodly show,
And full of opening blooms was ev'ry bough.
A goldfinch there I saw with gaudy pride.
Of painted plumes, that hopp'd from side to side,
Still pecking as she pass'd; and still she drew
The sweets from ev'ry flow'r, and suck'd the dew:
Suffic'd at length, she warbled in her throat,
And tun'd her voice to many a merry note,
But indistinct, and neither sweet nor clear,
Yet such as sooth'd my soul and pleas'd my ear.
Her short performance was no sooner tried,
When she I sought, the nightingale, replied:
So sweet, so shrill, so variously she sung,
That the grove echo'd, and the valleys rung;
And I so ravish'd with her heav'nly note,
I stood intranc'd, and had no room for thought,
But all o'erpow'r'd with ecstasy of bliss,
Was in a pleasing dream of Paradise.
At length I wak'd, and, looking round the bow'r,
Search'd ev'ry tree, and pried on ev'ry flow'r,
If anywhere by chance I might espy
The rural poet of the melody;
For still methought she sung not far away.
At last I found her on a laurel spray;
Close by my side she sate, and fair in sight,
Fall in a line, against her opposite,
Where stood with eglantine the laurel twin'd,
And both their native sweets were well conjoin'd.
On the green bank I sat, and listen'd long;
(Sitting was more convenient for the song!)
Nor till her lay was ended could I move,
But wish'd to dwell forever in the grove.
Only methought the time too swiftly pass'd,
And ev'ry note I fear'd would be the last.
My sight, and smell, and hearing were employ'd,
And all three senses in full gust enjoy'd.
And what alone did all the rest surpass,
The sweet possession of the fairy place;
Single, and conscious to myself alone
Of pleasures to th' excluded world unknown:
Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found,
And all Elysium in a spot of ground.
Thus while I sat intent to see and hear,
And drew perfumes of more than vital air,
All suddenly I heard th' approaching sound
Of vocal music on th' enchanted ground:
An host of saints it seem'd, so full the choir;
As if the blest above did all conspire
To join their voices and neglect the lyre.
At length there issued from the grove behind
A fair assembly of the female kind:
A train less fair, as ancient fathers tell,
Sedue'd the sons of heaven to rebel.
I pass their forms, and ev'ry charming grace;
Less than an angel would their worth debase;
But their attire, like liveries of a kind,
All rich and rare, is fresh within my mind.
In velvet, white as snow, the troop was gown'd,
The seams with sparkling emeralds set around;
Their hoods and sleeves the same, and purfled o'er
With diamonds, pearls, and all the shining store
Of Eastern pomp; their long descending train,
With rubies edg'd, and sapphires, swept the plain;
High on their heads, with jewels richly set,
Each lady wore a radiant coronet.
Beneath the circles, all the choir was grac'd
With chaplets green on their fair foreheads plac'd.
Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,
And wreaths of agnus castus others bore:
These last, who with those virgin crowns were dress'd,
Appear'd in higher honor than the rest.
They danc'd around; but in the midst was seen
A lady of a more majestic mien,
By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign queen.
She in the midst began with sober grace;
Her servants' eyes were fix'd upon her face,
And, as she mov'd or turn'd, her motions view'd,
Her measures kept, and step by step pursued.
Methought she trod the ground with greater grace,
With more of godhead shining in her face;
And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir,
So, nobler than the rest, was her attire.
A crown of ruddy gold inclos'd her brow,
Plain without pomp, and rich without a show:
A branch of agnus castus in her hand
She bore aloft (her scepter of command);
Admir'd, ador'd by all the circling crowd,
For wheresoe'er she turn'd her face, they bow'd.
And as she danc'd, a roundelay she sung,
In honor of the laurel, ever young:
She rais'd her voice on high, and sung so clear,
The fawns came scudding from the groves to hear,
And all the bending forest lent an ear.
At ev'ry close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seem'd the music melted in the throat.
Thus dancing on, and singing as they danc'd,
They to the middle of the mead advanc'd,
Till round my arbor a new ring they made,
And footed it about the secret shade.
O'erjoy'd to see the jolly troop so near,
But somewhat aw'd, I shook with holy fear;
Yet not so much, but that I noted well
Who did the most in song or dance excel.
Not long I had observ'd, when from afar
I heard a sudden symphony of war;
The neighing coursers, and the soldiers' cry,
And sounding trumps that seem'd to tear the sky.
I saw soon after this, behind the grove
From whence the ladies did in order move,
Come issuing out in arms a warrior train,
That like a deluge pour'd upon the plain:
On barbed steeds they rode in proud array,
Thick as the college of the bees in May,
When swarming o'er the dusky fields they fly,
New to the flow'rs, and intercept the sky.
So fierce they drove, their coursers were so fleet,
That the turf trembled underneath their feet.
To tell their costly furniture were long,
The summer's day would end before the song;
To purchase but the tenth of all their store
Would make the mighty Persian monarch poor.
Yet what I can, I will; before the rest
The trumpets issued in white mantles dress'd:
A numerous troop, and all their heads around
With chaplets green of cerrial oak were crown'd;
And at each trumpet was a banner bound,
Which, waving in the wind, display'd at large
Their master's coat of arms and knightly charge.
Broad were the banners, and of snowy hue
A purer web the silkworm never drew,
The chief about their necks the scutcheons wore,
With orient pearls and jewels powder'd o'er;
Broad were their collars too, and ev'ry one
Was set about with many a costly stone.
Next these, of kings at arms a goodly train
In proud array came prancing o'er the plain;
Their cloaks were cloth of silver mix'd with gold,
And garlands green around their temples roll'd;
Rich crowns were on their royal scutcheons plac'd,
With sapphires, diamonds, and with rubies grac'd.
And as the trumpets their appearance made,
So these in habits were alike array'd;
But with a pace more sober and more slow,
And twenty, rank in rank, they rode arow,
The pursevants came next, in number more;
And like the heralds each his scutcheon bore:
Clad in white velvet all their troop they led,
With each an oaken chaplet on his head.
Nine royal knights in equal rank succeed,
Each warrior mounted on a fiery steed;
In golden armor glorious to behold;
The rivets of their arms were nail'd with gold.
Their surcoats of white ermine fur were made,
With cloth of gold between that cast a glitt'ring shade.
The trappings of their steeds were of the same;
The golden fringe ev'n set the ground on flame,
And drew a precious trail: a crown divine
Of laurel did about their temples twine.
Three henchmen were for ev'ry knight assign'd,
All in rich livery clad, and of a kind;
White velvet, but unshorn, for cloaks they wore,
And each within his hand a truncheon bore:
The foremost held a helm of rare device;
A prince's ransom would not pay the price
The second bore the buckler of his knight,
The third of cornel wood a spear upright,
Headed with piercing steel, and polish'd bright.
Like to their lords their equipage was seen,
And all their foreheads crown'd with garlands green.
And after these came arm'd with spear and shield
An host so great, as cover'd all the field;
And all their foreheads, like the knights before,
With laurels ever green were shaded o'er,
Or oak, or other leaves of lasting kind,
Tenacious of the stem, and firm against the wind.
Some in their hands, besides the lance and shield,
The boughs of woodbind or of hawthorn held,
Or branches for their mystic emblems took,
Of palm, of laurel, or of cerrial oak.
Thus marching to the trumpets' lofty sound,
Drawn in two lines adverse they wheel'd around,
And in the middle meadow took their ground.
Among themselves the turney they divide,
In equal squadrons rang'd on either side;
Then turn'd their horses' heads, and man to man,
And steed to steed oppos'd, the justs began.
They lightly set their lances in the rest,
And at the sign, against each other press'd:
They met; I sitting at my ease beheld
The mix'd events, and fortunes of the field.
Some broke their spears, some tumbled horse and man,
And round the field the lighten'd coursers ran.
An hour and more, like tides, in equal sway
They rush'd, and won by turns and lost the day:
At length the nine (who still together held)
Their fainting foes to shameful flight compell'd,
And with resistless force o'erran the field.
Thus, to their fame, when finish'd was the fight,
The victors from their lofty steeds alight:
Like them dismounted all the warlike train,
And two by two proceeded o'er the plain;
Till to the fair assembly they advanc'd,
Who near the secret arbor sung and danc'd.
The ladies left their measures at the sight,
To meet the chiefs returning from the fight,
And each with open arms embrac'd her chosen knight.
Amid the plain a spreading laurel stood,
The grace and ornament of all the wood:
That pleasing shade they sought, a soft retreat
From sudden April show'rs, a shelter from the heat.
Her leavy arms with such extent were spread,
So near the clouds was her aspiring head,
That hosts of birds, that wing the liquid air,
Perch'd in the boughs, had nightly lodging there;
And flocks of sheep beneath the shade from far
Might hear the rattling hail and wintry war;
From heav'n's inclemency here found retreat,
Enjoy'd the cool, and shunn'd the scorching heat:
A hundred knights might there at ease abide,
And ev'ry knight a lady by his side;
The trunk itself such odors did bequeath,
That a Moluccan breeze to these was common breath.
The lords and ladies here, approaching, paid
Their homage, with a low obeisance made,
And seem'd to venerate the sacred shade.
These rites perform'd, their pleasures they pursue,
With songs of love, and mix with measures new;
Around the holy tree their dance they frame,
And ev'ry champion leads his chosen dame.
I cast my sight upon the farther field,
And a fresh object of delight beheld:
For from the region of the West I heard
New music sound, and a new troop appear'd,
Of knights and ladies mix'd, a jolly band;
But all on foot they march'd, and hand in hand.
The ladies dress'd in rich simars were seen
Of Florence satin, flow'r'd with white and green,
And for a shade betwixt the bloomy gridelin.
The borders of their petticoats below
Were guarded thick with rubies on arow;
And ev'ry damsel wore upon her head
Of flow'rs a garland blended white and red.
Attir'd in mantles all the knights were seen,
That gratified the view with cheerful green:
Their chaplets of their ladies' colors were,
Compos'd of white and red, to shade their shining hair.
Before the merry troop the minstrels play'd:
All in their masters' liveries were array'd,
And clad in green, and on their temples wore
The chaplets white and red their ladies bore.
Their instruments were various in their kind,
Some for the bow, and some for breathing wind:
The sawtry, pipe, and hautboys' noisy band,
And the soft lute trembling beneath the touching hand.
A tuft of daisies on a flow'ry lay
They saw, and thitherward they bent their way;
To this both knights and dames their homage made,
And due obeisance to the daisy paid.
And then the band of flutes began to play,
To which a lady sung a virelay;
And still at ev'ry close she would repeat
The burden of the song, " The daisy is so sweet. "
" The daisy is so sweet, " when she begun,
The troop of knights and dames continued on.
The concert and the voice so charm'd my ear,
And sooth'd my soul, that it was heav'n to hear.
But soon their pleasure pass'd; at noon of day,
The sun with sultry beams began to play:
Not Sirius shoots a fiercer flame from high,
When with his pois'nous breath he blasts the sky.
Then droop'd the fading flow'rs (their beauty fled)
And clos'd their sickly eyes, and hung the head;
And, rivel'd up with heat, lay dying in their bed.
The ladies gasp'd, and scarcely could respire;
The breath they drew, no longer air, but fire:
The fainty knights were scorch'd, and knew not where
To run for shelter, for no shade was near.
And after this the gath'ring clouds amain
Pour'd down a storm of rattling hail and rain,
And lightning flash'd betwixt; the field and flow'rs,
Burnt up before, were buried in the show'rs.
The ladies and the knights, no shelter nigh,
Bare to the weather and the wintry sky,
Were dropping wet, disconsolate and wan,
And thro' their thin array receiv'd the rain.
While those in white, protected by the tree,
Saw pass the vain assault, and stood from danger free.
But as compassion mov'd their gentle minds,
When ceas'd the storm, and silent were the winds,
Displeas'd at what, not suff'ring, they had seen,
They went to cheer the faction of the green
The queen in white array, before her band,
Saluting, took her rival by the hand
So did the knights and dames, with courtly grace,
And with behavior sweet their foes embrace!
Then thus the queen with laurel on her brow:
" Fair sister, I have suffer'd in your woe;
Nor shall be wanting aught within my pow'r
For your relief in my refreshing bow'r. "
That other answer'd with a lowly look,
And soon the gracious invitation took;
For ill at ease both she and all her train
The scorching sun had borne, and beating rain.
Like courtesy was us'd by all in white;
Each dame a dame receiv'd, and ev'ry knight a knight.
The laurel champions with their swords invade
The neighb'ring forests, where the justs were made,
And sear wood from the rotten hedges took,
And seeds of latent fire from flints provoke:
A cheerful blaze arose, and by the fire
They warm'd their frozen feet and dried their wet attire.
Refresh'd with heat, the ladies sought around
For virtuous herbs, which gather'd from the ground,
They squeez'd the juice, and cooling ointment made,
Which on their sunburnt cheeks and their chapp'd skins they laid;
Then sought green salads, which they bade 'em eat,
A sovereign remedy for inward heat.
The Lady of the Leaf ordain'd a feast,
And made the Lady of the Flow'r her guest:
When lo! a bow'r ascended on the plain,
With sudden seats adorn'd, and large for either train.
This bow'r was near my pleasant arbor plac'd,
That I could hear and see whatever pass'd:
The ladies sat with each a knight between,
Distinguish'd by their colors, white and green;
The vanquish'd party with the victors join'd,
Nor wanted sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind.
Meantime the minstrels play'd on either side,
Vain of their art, and for the mast'ry vied;
The sweet contention lasted for an hour,
And reach'd my secret arbor from the bow'r.
The sun was set; and Vesper, to supply
His absent beams, had lighted up the sky:
When Philomel, officious all the day
To sing the service of th' ensuing May,
Fled from her laurel shade, and wing'd her flight
Directly to the queen array'd in white;
And hopping sate familiar on her hand,
A new musician, and increas'd the band.
The goldfinch, who, to shun the scalding heat,
Had chang'd the medlar for a safer seat,
And hid in bushes scap'd the bitter show'r,
Now perch'd upon the Lady of the Flow'r;
And either songster, holding out their throats,
And folding up their wings, renew'd their notes;
As if all day, preluding to the fight,
They only had rehears'd, to sing by night.
The banquet ended, and the battle done,
They danc'd by starlight and the friendly moon;
And when they were to part, the laureat queen
Supplied with steeds the Lady of the green,
Her and her train conducting on the way,
The moon to follow, and avoid the day.
This when I saw, inquisitive to know
The secret moral of the mystic show,
I started from my shade, in hopes to find
Some nymph to satisfy my longing mind;
And, as my fair adventure fell, I found
A lady all in white, with laurel crown'd,
Who clos'd the rear, and softly pac'd along,
Repeating to herself the former song.
With due respect my body I inclin'd,
As to some being of superior kind,
And made my court according to the day,
Wishing her queen and her a happy May.
" Great thanks, my daughter, " with a gracious bow
She said; and I, who much desir'd to know
Of whence she was, yet fearful how to break
My mind, adventur'd humbly thus to speak:
" Madam, might I presume and not offend,
So may the stars and shining moon attend
Your nightly sports, as you vouchsafe to tell
What nymphs they were who mortal forms excel,
And what the knights who fought in listed fields so well. "
To this the dame replied: " Fair daughter, know,
That what you saw was all a fairy show;
And all those airy shapes you now behold
Were human bodies once, and cloth'd with earthly mold.
Our souls, not yet prepar'd for upper light,
Till doomsday wander in the shades of night;
This only holiday of all the year,
We privileg'd in sunshine may appear:
With songs and dance we celebrate the day,
And with due honors usher in the May.
At other times we reign by night alone,
And posting thro' the skies pursue the moon;
But when the moon arises, none are found;
For cruel Demogorgon walks the round,
And if he finds a fairy lag in light,
He drives the wretch before, and lashes into night.
" All courteous are by kind, and ever proud
With friendly offices to help the good.
In every land we have a larger space
Than what is known to you of mortal race,
Where we with green adorn our fairy bow'rs,
And ev'n this grove, unseen before, is ours.
Know farther: ev'ry lady cloth'd in white,
And, crown'd with oak and laurel ev'ry knight,
Are servants to the Leaf, by liveries known
Of innocence; and I myself am one.
Saw you not her so graceful to behold
In white attire, and crown'd with radiant gold?
The sovereign lady of our land is she,
Diana call'd, the queen of chastity;
And, for the spotless name of maid she bears,
That agnus castus in her hand appears;
And all her tram, with leavy chaplets crown'd,
Were for unblam'd virginity renown'd;
But those the chief and highest in command
Who bear those holy branches in their hand:
The knights adorn'd with laurel crowns are they
Whom death nor danger ever could dismay,
Victorious names, who made the world obey;
Who, while they liv'd, in deeds of arms excell'd,
And after death for deities were held.
But those who wear the woodbine on their brow
Were knights of love, who never broke their vow;
Firm to their plighted faith, and ever free
From fears, and fickle chance, and jealousy.
The lords and ladies who the woodbine bear
As true as Tristram and Isotta were. "
" But what are those, " said I, " th' unconquer'd nine,
Who crown'd with laurel wreaths in golden armor shine?
And who the knights in green, and what the train
Of ladies dress'd with daisies on the plain?
Why both the bands in worship disagree,
And some adore the Flow'r, and some the Tree? "
" Just is your suit, fair daughter, " said the dame;
" Those laurel'd chiefs were men of mighty fame;
Nine worthies were they call'd of diff'rent rites,
Three Jews, three Pagans, and three Christian knights.
These, as you see, ride foremost in the field,
As they the foremost rank of honor held,
And all in deeds of chivalry excell'd:
Their temples wreath'd with leafs, that still renew;
For deathless laurel is the victor's due.
Who bear the bows were knights in Arthur's reign,
Twelve they, and twelve the peers of Charlemagne;
For bows the strength of brawny arms imply,
Emblems of valor and of victory.
Behold an order yet of newer date,
Doubling their number, equal in their state;
Our England's ornament, the crown's defense,
In battle brave, protectors of their prince;
Unchang'd by fortune, to their sovereign true,
For which their manly legs are bound with blue.
These, of the Garter call'd, of faith unstain'd,
In fighting fields the laurel have obtain'd,
And well repaid those honors which they gain'd.
The laurel wreaths were first by Caesar worn,
And still they Caesar's successors adorn;
One leaf of this is immortality,
And more of worth than all the world can buy. "
" One doubt remains, " said I, " the dames in green,
What were their qualities, and who their queen? "
" Flora commands, " said she, " those nymphs and knights,
Who liv'd in slothful ease and loose delights;
Who never acts of honor durst pursue,
The men inglorious knights, the ladies all untrue:
Who, nurs'd in idleness and train'd in courts,
Pass'd all their precious hours in plays and sports,
Till Death behind came stalking on, unseen,
And wither'd (like the storm) the freshness of their green.
These, and their mates, enjoy the present hour,
And therefore pay their homage to the Flow'r.
But knights in knightly deeds should persevere,
And still continue what at first they were;
Continue, and proceed in honor's fair career.
No room for cowardice or dull delay;
From good to better they should urge their way.
For this with golden spurs the chiefs are grac'd,
With pointed rowels arm'd to mend their haste;
For this with lasting leaves their brows are bound,
For laurel is the sign of labor crown'd,
Which bears the bitter blast, nor shaken falls to ground:
From winter winds it suffers no decay,
For ever fresh and fair, and ev'ry month is May.
Ev'n when the vital sap retreats below,
Ev'n when the hoary head is hid in snow,
The life is in she leaf, and still between
The fits of falling snows appears the streaky green.
Not so the flow'r, which lasts for little space,
A short-liv'd good, and an uncertain grace;
This way and that the feeble stem is driv'n,
Weak to sustain the storms and injuries of heav'n.
Propp'd by the spring, it lifts aloft the head,
But of a sickly beauty, soon to shed;
In summer living, and in winter dead.
For things of tender kind, for pleasure made,
Shoot up with swift increase, and sudden are decay'd. "
With humble words, the wisest I could frame,
And proffer'd service, I repaid the dame;
That, of her grace, she gave her maid to know
The secret meaning of this moral show.
And she, to prove what profit I had made
Of mystic truth, in fables first convey'd,
Demanded, till the next returning May,
Whether the Leaf or Flow'r I would obey?
I chose the Leaf; she smil'd with sober cheer,
And wish'd me fair adventure for the year,
And gave me charms and sigils, for defense
Against ill tongues that scandal innocence.
" But I, " said she, " my fellows must pursue,
Already past the plain and out of view. "
We parted thus; I homeward sped my way,
Bewilder'd in the wood till dawn of day,
And met the merry crew who danc'd about the May.
Then late, refresh'd with sleep, I rose to write
The visionary vigils of the night:
Blush, as thou may'st, my little book, for shame,
Nor hope with homely verse to purchase fame;
For such thy maker chose, and so design'd
Thy simple style to suit thy lowly kind.