Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 2 by Gilfillan, George, 1813-1878

16 Fain would I have it tried By experiment, By none can be denied; If in this bulk of nature, There be voids less or greater, Or all remains complete? Fain would I know if beasts have any reason; If falcons killing eagles do commit a treason; If fear of winter's want makes swallows fly the season. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go;

17 Hallo, my fancy, hallo, Stay, stay at home with me, I can thee no longer follow, For thou hast betrayed me, And bewrayed me; It is too much for thee. Stay, stay at home with me; leave off thy lofty soaring; Stay thou at home with me, and on thy books be poring; For he that goes abroad, lays little up in storing: Thou'rt welcome home, my fancy, welcome home to me.

THE FAIRY QUEEN.

1 Come, follow, follow me, You, fairy elves that be; Which circle on the green, Come, follow Mab, your queen. Hand in hand let's dance around, For this place is fairy ground.

2 When mortals are at rest, And snoring in their nest; Unheard and unespied, Through keyholes we do glide; Over tables, stools, and shelves, We trip it with our fairy elves.

3 And if the house be foul With platter, dish, or bowl, Up-stairs we nimbly creep, And find the sluts asleep; There we pinch their arms and thighs; None escapes, nor none espies.

4 But if the house be swept, And from uncleanness kept, We praise the household maid, And duly she is paid; For we use, before we go, To drop a tester in her shoe.

5 Upon a mushroom's head Our tablecloth we spread; A grain of rye or wheat Is manchet which we eat; Pearly drops of dew we drink, In acorn cups filled to the brink.

6 The brains of nightingales, With unctuous fat of snails, Between two cockles stewed, Is meat that's easily chewed; Tails of worms, and marrow of mice, Do make a dish that's wondrous nice.

7 The grasshopper, gnat, and fly, Serve us for our minstrelsy; Grace said, we dance a while, And so the time beguile; And if the moon doth hide her head, The glow-worm lights us home to bed.

8 On tops of dewy grass So nimbly do we pass, The young and tender stalk Ne'er bends when we do walk; Yet in the morning may be seen Where we the night before have been.

END OF VOL. II.