Her face was like the lily roon That veils the vestal planet's hue; Her eyes, two beamlets from the moon, Her hair is like the sunny beam, And the diamond gems which round it gleam, Are the pure drops of dewy even That ne'er have left their native heaven. XXXII. She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite, And they leaped with smiles, for well I ween Never before in the bowers of light Had the form of an earthly Fay been seen. Long she looked in his tiny face; Long with his butterfly cloak she played; She smoothed his wings of azure lace, And handled the tassel of his blade; And as he told in accents low She story of his love and wo, She felt new pains in her bosom rise, And the tear-drop started in her eyes. And "O, sweet spirit of earth," she cried, "Return no more to your woodland height, But ever here with me abide In the land of everlasting light! Within the fleecy drift we'll lie, We'll hang upon the rainbow's rim; THE CULPRIT FAY. 43 And all the jewels of the sky Around thy brow shall brightly beam! That rolls its whitening foam aboon, And dance upon the orbed moon! We'll sit within the Pleiad ring, We'll rest on Orion's starry belt, And I will bid my sylphs to sing The song that makes the dew-mist melt; Of silvery moonshine's lengthened ray; XXXIII. She was lovely and fair to see, For he thought upon her looks so meek, And he thought of the light flush on her cheek; Never again might he bask and lie On that sweet cheek and moonlight eye, But in his dreams her form to see, To clasp her in his revery, To think upon his virgin bride, Was worth all heaven and earth beside. XXXIV. "Lady," he cried, "I have sworn to-night, On the word of a fairy knight, To do my sentence-task aright; My honour scarce is free from stain, But she led him to the palace gate, And called the sylphs who hovered there, With charm and spell she blessed it there, And tied his steed behind the cloud; THE CULPRIT FAY. And pressed his hand as she bade him fly There was a star would fall to-night. XXXV. Borne afar on the wings of the blast, The streaming of the rocket-light. XXXVI. The star is yet in the vault of heaven, And now 'tis fitful and uneven, And now 'tis deadly pale; And now 't is wrapped in sulphur smoke, And now with a rattling thunder-stroke 45 As swift as the glance of the arrowy lance As swift as the wind in its trail behind The fiends of the clouds are bellowing loud, He gallops unhurt in the shower of fire, While the cloud-fiends fly from the blaze; He watches each flake till its sparks expire, And rides in the light of its rays. But he drove his steed to the lightning's speed, Then wheeled around to the fairy ground, Ouphe and goblin! imp and sprite ! Twine ye in a jocund ring, Sing and trip it merrily, Hand to hand, and wing to wing, Round the wild witch-hazel tree. Hail the wanderer again, With dance and song, and lute and lyre, |