Classic Poem

'T WAS one even all alone, as the fold I lay tending,
When silence pervaded, and nature was still,
Save the night-raven's whirr, where the broad oak was bending,
Or the voice of the fox, as he howl'd on the hill.
Beneath the gray hawthorn, each care was confounded,
Where fancy presented the whimsical trance,
Of hundreds of elves that me quickly surrounded,
As they skimm'd o'er the moorlands to join the fairy dance.

Small was their form, and their motion was lightly;
Their beavers were white, and their vestments were green;
On their front rode a nymph, on a pied steed, so sightly,
Whose rod and deportment betoken'd their Queen.
Loose flow'd her robes, as they shone like the pole-streams,
That shakes o'er the sky with a quivering glance;
And bright shone her face, like the silvery moon's mild beams,
While thus she address'd them, to join the fairy dance. —

" Come, ye fleet elves, and ye spirits of ether,
Now is the time that our revels we keep,
Brushing the dew from the low-bending heather,
While the dull sons of earth lie involved in sleep.
Minstrels meet, let your music be sounding;
Partners be clasping — in couples advance:
Hence with dull care; let your joys be abounding;
Trip to the moon-beam the gay fairy dance. "

Shrill sounds the pipe, still the low glens repeating,
Meet, join'd the harp, with its melody low;
Now airy they wheel, and now lovingly meeting,
As gaily they flit on the light skiffing toe.
High beat my heart — how my fancy was cheered;
Methought that to meet them I forth did advance;
But the melody ceas'd, and the scene disappeared —
So fleeting's our joy, like the gay fairy dance!