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* * * A FAIRY TALE, IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STYLE. 1 In Britain's isle and Arthur's days, When midnight Faeries danced the maze, Lived Edwin of the green; Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth, Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth, Though badly shaped he been. 2 His mountain back mote well be said To measure heighth against his head, And lift itself above: Yet spite of all that Nature did To make his uncouth form forbid, This creature dared to love. 3 He felt the charms of Edith's eyes, Nor wanted hope to gain the prize, Could ladies look within; But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art, And, if a shape could win a heart, He had a shape to win. 4 Edwin (if right I read my song) With slighted passion paced along, All in the moony light: 'Twas near an old enchanted court, Where sportive Faeries made resort To revel out the night. 5 His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 'twas farr, the path was lost That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolved, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown. 6 But scant he lays him on the floor, When hollow winds remove the door, A trembling rocks the ground: And (well I ween to count aright) At once an hundred tapers light On all the walls around. 7 Now sounding tongues assail his ear, Now sounding feet approachen near, And now the sounds increase: And from the corner where he lay He sees a train, profusely gay, Come prankling o'er the place. 8 But trust me, gentles! never yet Was dight a masquing half so neat, Or half so rich before; The country lent the sweet perfumes, The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes, The town its silken store. 9 Now whilst he gazed, a gallant dress'd In flaunting robes above the rest, With awful accent cried: What mortal of a wretched mind, Whose sighs infect the balmy wind, Has here presumed to hide? 10 At this the swain, whose venturous soul No fears of magic art control, Advanced in open sight: Nor have I cause of dread, he said, Who view, by no presumption led, Your revels of the night. 11 'Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love,
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