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THE FAY’S SENTENCE
THE MONARCH sat on his judgment-seat | |
| On his brow the crown imperial shone, | |
| The prisoner Fay was at his feet, | |
| And his peers were ranged around the throne. | |
| He waved his sceptre in the air; | 5 |
| He looked around and calmly spoke; | |
| His brow was grave and his eye severe, | |
| But his voice in a softened accent broke: | |
| |
| “Fairy! Fairy! list and mark, | |
| Thou hast broke thine elfin chain, | 10 |
| Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, | |
| And thy wings are dyed with a deadly stain— | |
| Thou hast sullied thine elfin purity | |
| In the glance of a mortal maiden’s eye, | |
| Thou hast scorned our dread decree, | 15 |
| And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high, | |
| But well I know her sinless mind | |
| Is pure as the angel forms above, | |
| Gentle and meek, and chaste and kind, | |
| Such as a spirit well might love; | 20 |
| Fairy! had she spot or taint, | |
| Bitter had been thy punishment. | |
| Tied to the hornet’s shardy wings; | |
| Tossed on the pricks of nettle’s stings; | |
| Or seven long ages doomed to dwell | 25 |
| With the lazy worm in the walnut-shell; | |
| Or every night to writhe and bleed | |
| Beneath the tread of the centipede; | |
| Or bound in a cobweb dungeon dim, | |
| Your jailer a spider huge and grim, | 30 |
| Amid the carrion bodies to lie, | |
| Of the worm, and the bug, and the murdered fly; | |
| These it had been your lot to bear, | |
| Had a stain been found on the earthly fair. | |
| Now list, and mark our mild decree— | 35 |
| Fairy, this your doom must be: | |
| |
| “Thou shalt seek the beach of sand | |
| Where the water bounds the elfin land, | |
| Thou shalt watch the oozy brine | |
| Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moon-shine, | 40 |
| Then dart the glistening arch below, | |
| And catch a drop from his silver bow. | |
| The water-sprites will wield their arms | |
| And dash around, with roar and rave, | |
| And vain are the woodland spirits’ charms, | 45 |
| They are the imps that rule the wave. | |
| Yet trust thee in thy single might,— | |
| If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right, | |
| Thou shalt win the warlock fight. | |
| |
| “If the spray-bead gem be won, | 50 |
| The stain of thy wing is washed away, | |
| But another errand must be done | |
| Ere thy crime be lost for aye; | |
| Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, | |
| Thou must re-illumine its spark. | 55 |
| Mount thy steed and spur him high | |
| To the heaven’s blue canopy; | |
| And when thou seest a shooting star, | |
| Follow it fast, and follow it far— | |
| The last faint spark of its burning train | 60 |
| Shall light the elfin lamp again. | |
| Thou hast heard our sentence, Fay; | |
| Hence! to the water-side, away!” | |
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THE FIRST QUEST
The goblin marked his monarch well; | |
| He spake not, but he bowed him low, | 65 |
| Then plucked a crimson colon-bell, | |
| And turned him round in act to go. | |
| The way is long, he cannot fly, | |
| His soilëd wing has lost its power, | |
| And he winds adown the mountain high, | 70 |
| For many a sore and weary hour, | |
| Through dreary beds of tangled fern, | |
| Through groves of nightshade dark and dern, | |
| Over the grass and through the brake, | |
| Where toils the ant and sleeps the snake; | 75 |
| Now o’er the violet ’s azure flush | |
| He skips along in lightsome mood; | |
| And now he thrids the bramble bush, | |
| Till its points are dyed in fairy blood. | |
| He has leapt the bog, he has pierced the brier, | 80 |
| He has swum the brook, and waded the mire, | |
| Till his spirits sank, and his limbs grew weak, | |
| And the red waxed fainter in his cheek. | |
| He had fallen to the ground outright, | |
| For rugged and dim was his onward track, | 85 |
| But there came a spotted toad in sight, | |
| And he laughed as he jumped upon her back; | |
| He bridled her mouth with a silk-weed twist; | |
| He lashed her sides with an osier thong; | |
| And now through evening’s dewy mist, | 90 |
| With leap and spring they bound along, | |
| Till the mountain’s magic verge is past, | |
| And the beach of sand is reached at last. | |
| |
| Soft and pale is the moony beam, | |
| Moveless still the glassy stream, | 95 |
| The wave is clear, the beach is bright | |
| With snowy shells and sparkling stones; | |
| The shore-surge comes in ripples light, | |
| In murmurings faint and distant moans; | |
| And ever afar in the silence deep | 100 |
| Is heard the splash of the sturgeon’s leap, | |
| And the bend of his graceful bow is seen— | |
| A glittering arch of silver sheen, | |
| Spanning the wave of burnished blue, | |
| And dripping with gems of the river dew. | 105 |
| |
| The elfin cast a glance around, | |
| As he lighted down from his courser toad, | |
| Then round his breast his wings he wound, | |
| And close to the river’s brink he strode; | |
| He sprang on a rock, he breathed a prayer, | 110 |
| Above his head his arms he threw, | |
| Then tossed a tiny curve in air, | |
| And headlong plunged in the waters blue. | |
| |
| Up sprung the spirits of the waves, | |
| From sea-silk beds in their coral caves; | 115 |
| With snail-plate armor snatched in haste, | |
| They speed their way through the liquid waste; | |
| Some are rapidly borne along | |
| On the mailëd shrimp or the prickly prong, | |
| Some on the blood-red leeches glide, | 120 |
| Some on the stony star-fish ride, | |
| Some on the back of the lancing squab, | |
| Some on the sideling soldier-crab, | |
| And some on the jellied quarl, that flings | |
| At once a thousand streamy stings,— | 125 |
| They cut the wave with the living oar | |
| And hurry on to the moonlight shore, | |
| To guard their realms and chase away | |
| The footsteps of the invading Fay. | |
| |
| Fearlessly he skims along, | 130 |
| His hope is high, and his limbs are strong, | |
| He spreads his arms like the swallow’s wing, | |
| And throws his feet with a frog-like fling; | |
| His locks of gold on the waters shine, | |
| At his breast the tiny foam-beads rise, | 135 |
| His back gleams bright above the brine, | |
| And the wake-line foam behind him lies. | |
| But the water-sprites are gathering near | |
| To check his course along the tide; | |
| Their warriors come in swift career | 140 |
| And hem him round on every side; | |
| On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold, | |
| The quarl’s long arms are round him rolled, | |
| The prickly prong has pierced his skin, | |
| And the squab has thrown his javelin, | 145 |
| The gritty star has rubbed him raw, | |
| And the crab has struck with his giant claw; | |
| He howls with rage, and he shrieks with pain, | |
| He strikes around, but his blows are vain; | |
| Hopeless is the unequal fight, | 150 |
| Fairy! naught is left but flight. | |
| |
| He turned him round and fled amain | |
| With hurry and dash to the beach again; | |
| He twisted over from side to side, | |
| And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide. | 155 |
| The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet, | |
| And with all his might he flings his feet, | |
| But the water-sprites are round him still, | |
| To cross his path and work him ill. | |
| They bade the wave before him rise; | 160 |
| They flung the sea-fire in his eyes, | |
| And they stunned his ears with the scallop stroke, | |
| With the porpoise heave and the drum-fish croak. | |
| |
| Oh! but a weary wight was he | |
| When he reached the foot of the dog-wood tree; | 165 |
| —Gashed and wounded, and stiff and sore, | |
| He laid him down on the sandy shore; | |
| He blessed the force of the charmëd line, | |
| And he banned the water-goblins’ spite, | |
| For he saw around in the sweet moonshine, | 170 |
| Their little wee faces above the brine, | |
| Giggling and laughing with all their might | |
| At the piteous hap of the Fairy wight. | |
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THE SECOND QUEST
Up, Fairy! quit thy chick-weed bower, | |
| The cricket has called the second hour, | 175 |
| Twice again, and the lark will rise | |
| To kiss the streaking of the skies— | |
| Up! thy charmëd armor don, | |
| Thou ’lt need it ere the night be gone. | |
| He put his acorn helmet on; | 180 |
| It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down; | |
| The corselet plate that guarded his breast | |
| Was once the wild bee’s golden vest; | |
| His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, | |
| Was formed of the wings of butterflies; | 185 |
| His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, | |
| Studs of gold on a ground of green; | |
| And the quivering lance, which he brandished bright, | |
| Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. | |
| Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed; | 190 |
| He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; | |
| He drove his spurs of the cockle seed, | |
| And away like a glance of thought he flew, | |
| To skim the heavens and follow far | |
| The fiery trail of the rocket-star. | 195 |
| |
| The moth-fly, as he shot in air, | |
| Crept under the leaf, and hid her there; | |
| The katy-did forgot its lay, | |
| The prowling gnat fled fast away, | |
| The fell mosquito checked his drone | 200 |
| And folded his wings till the Fay was gone, | |
| And the wily beetle dropped his head, | |
| And fell on the ground as if he were dead; | |
| They crouched them close in the darksome shade, | |
| They quaked all o’er with awe and fear, | 205 |
| For they had felt the blue-bent blade, | |
| And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear; | |
| Many a time on a summer’s night, | |
| When the sky was clear and the moon was bright, | |
| They had been roused from the haunted ground, | 210 |
| By the yelp and bay of the fairy hound; | |
| They had heard the tiny bugle horn, | |
| They had heard the twang of the maize-silk string, | |
| When the vine-twig bows were tightly drawn, | |
| And the nettle shaft through air was borne, | 215 |
| Feathered with down of the hum-bird’s wing. | |
| And now they deemed the courier ouphe | |
| Some hunter sprite of the elfin ground; | |
| And they watched till they saw him mount the roof | |
| That canopies the world around; | 220 |
| Then glad they left their covert lair, | |
| And freaked about in the midnight air. | |
| |
| Up to the vaulted firmament | |
| His path the fire-fly courser bent, | |
| And at every gallop on the wind, | 225 |
| He flung a glittering spark behind; | |
| He flies like a feather in the blast | |
| Till the first light cloud in heaven is past, | |
| But the shapes of air have begun their work, | |
| And a drizzly mist is round him cast, | 230 |
| He cannot see through the mantle murk, | |
| He shivers with cold, but he urges fast, | |
| Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade; | |
| He lashes his steed and spurs amain, | |
| For shadowy hands have twitched the rein, | 235 |
| And flame-shot tongues around him played, | |
| And near him many a fiendish eye | |
| Glared with a fell malignity, | |
| And yells of rage, and shrieks of fear, | |
| Came screaming on his startled ear. | 240 |
| |
| His wings are wet around his breast, | |
| The plume hangs dripping from his crest, | |
| His eyes are blurred with the lightning’s glare, | |
| And his ears are stunned with the thunder’s blare, | |
| But he gave a shout, and his blade he drew, | 245 |
| He thrust before and he struck behind, | |
| Till he pierced their cloudy bodies through, | |
| And gashed their shadowy limbs of wind; | |
| Howling the misty spectres flew,— | |
| They rend the air with frightful cries, | 250 |
| For he has gained the welkin blue, | |
| And the land of clouds beneath him lies. | |
| |
| Up to the cope careering swift | |
| In breathless motion fast, | |
| Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift, | 255 |
| Or the sea-roc rides the blast, | |
| The sapphire sheet of eve is shot, | |
| The spherëd moon is past, | |
| The earth but seems a tiny blot | |
| On a sheet of azure cast. | 260 |
| O! it was sweet in the clear moonlight, | |
| To tread the starry plain of even, | |
| To meet the thousand eyes of night, | |
| And feel the cooling breath of heaven! | |
| But the Elfin made no stop or stay | 265 |
| Till he came to the bank of the milky way; | |
| Then he checked his courser’s foot, | |
| And watched for the glimpse of the planet shoot. | |
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ELFIN SONG
Ouphe and goblin! imp and sprite! | |
| Elf of eve! and starry Fay! | 270 |
| Ye that love the moon’s soft light, | |
| Hither—hither wend your way; | |
| Twine ye in a jocund ring, | |
| Sing and trip it merrily, | |
| Hand to hand, and wing to wing, | 275 |
| Round the wild witch-hazel tree. | |
| |
| Hail the wanderer again, | |
| With dance and song, and lute and lyre. | |
| Pure his wing and strong his chain, | |
| And doubly bright his fairy fire. | 280 |
| Twine ye in an airy round, | |
| Brush the dew and print the lea; | |
| Skip and gambol, hop and bound, | |
| Round the wild witch-hazel tree. | |
| |
| The beetle guards our holy ground, | 285 |
| He flies about the haunted place, | |
| And if mortal there be found, | |
| He hums in his ears and flaps his face; | |
| The leaf-harp sounds our roundelay, | |
| The owlet ’s eyes our lanterns be; | 290 |
| Thus we sing, and dance, and play, | |
| Round the wild witch-hazel tree. | |
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