Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/301

191 That, drooping, clusters round

The tall and spiral stem,

Each one bedecked and broidered

With many a fairy gem:

Why Foxgloves are they hight?

They're Fairy-caps, I ween—

Oft in the moony light

The elfin folk are seen

Trooping and frisking out,

With tiny silv'ry shout,

Forth to the circlet green;

And trumpet-notes, through woodbine florets blown,

Herald King Oberon, whose royal throne

Poised on a snow-white mushroom straight appears;

His retinue, well armed with keen grass spears,

Proud Foxglove helms, and daisy shields, stand round,

Like strange flowers, spell-called from the dew-bright ground.

Queen Mab and her gay fairy-maidens trace

A measure on the turf, with airy grace:

Their music the soft Harebell's silv'ry peals,

And distant rippling of the brook, that steals

Through the dim forest shade. Such fairies be,

Creatures of fancy, joy, and revelrie.

The green and graceful Fern,

How beautiful it is!

There's not a leaf in all the land

So wonderful, I wis.