He felt the charms of Edith's eyes, Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,
Could ladies look within;
But one sir Topas dress'd with art, And, if a shape could win a heart, He had a shape to win.
Edwin, if right I read my song, With slighted passion pac'd along All in the moony light; 'Twas near an old enchanted court, Where sportive fairies made resort To revel out the night.
His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, 'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lost That reach'd the neighbour-town ; With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolv'd, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown.
But scant he lays him on the floor, When hollow winds remove the door,
And, trembling, rocks the ground: And, well I ween to count aright, At once a hundred tapers light On all the walls around.
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.
But (trust me, gentles!) never yet Was dight a masking 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.
Now whilst he gaz'd, 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 presum❜d to hide?'
At this the swain, whose venturous soul No fears of magic art control, Advanc'd in open sight;
'Nor have I cause of dreed,' he said, Who view, by no presumption led, Your revels of the night.
"Twas grief, for scorn of faithful love, Which made my steps unweeting rove Amid the nightly dew.'
''Tis well,' the gallant cries again, 'We fairies never injure men Who dare to tell us true.
Exalt thy love-dejected heart, Be mine the task, or ere we part, To make thee grief resign;
Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce; Whilst I with Mab, my partner, daunce, Be little Mable thine.'
He spoke, and all a sudden there Light music floats in wanton air;
The monarch leads the queen: The rest their fairy partners found: And Mable trimly trip'd the ground With Edwin of the Green.
The dauncing pass'd, the board was laid, And siker such a feast was made As heart and lip desire; Withouten hands the dishes fly, The glasses with a wish come nigh, And with a wish retire.
But now to please the fairy king, Full every deal they laugh and sing, And antic feasts devise:
Some wind and tumble like an ape, And other-some transmute their shape In Edwin's wondering eyes.
Till one at last, that Robin hight, Renown'd for pinching maids by night, Has hent him up aloof; And full against the beam he flung, Where by the back the youth he hung To spraul unneath the roof.
From thence, Reverse my charm,' he cries, And let it fairly now suffice
The gambol has been shown:'
But Oberon answers, with a smile, 'Content thee, Edwin, for awhile, The vantage is thine own.'
Here ended all the phantom play; They smelt the fresh approach of day, And heard a cock to crow;
The whirling wind that bore the crowd Has clap'd the door, and whistled loud, To warn them all to go.
Then screaming all at once they fly, And all at once the tapers die; Poor Edwin falls to floor; Forlorn his state, and dark the place, Was never wight in sike a case Through all the land before.
But soon as dan Apollo rose, Full jolly creature home he goes, He feels his back the less; His honest tongue and steady mind Han rid him of the lump behind, Which made him want success.
With lusty livelyhed he talks, He seems a dauncing as he walks, His story soon took wind; And beauteous Edith sees the youth Endow'd with courage, sense, and truth, Without a bunch behind.
The story told, sir Topaz mov'd, The youth of Edith erst approv❜d, To see the revel scene:
At close of eve he leaves his home, And wends to find the ruin'd dome,
All on the gloomy plain.
As there he bides, it so befel,
The wind came rustling down a dell, A shaking seiz'd the wall; Up spring the tapers as before, The fairies bragly foot the floor, And music fills the hall.
But, certes, sorely sunk with woe Sir Topaz sees the elfin show, His spirits in him die : When Oberon cries, ' A man is near, A mortal passion, cleped fear, Hangs flagging in the sky.'
With that sir Topaz, hapless youth! In accents faltering, ay, for ruth, Intreats them pity graunt; For als he been a mister wight Betray'd by wandering in the night To tread the circled haunt.'
Ah, losell vile!' at once they roar; 'And little skill'd of fairie lore,
Thy cause to come, we know: Now has thy kestrell courage fell; And fairies, since a lie you tell, Are free to work thee woe.'
Then Will, who bears the wispy fire To trail the swains among the mire, The caitive upward flung; There, like a tortoise in a shop, He dangled from the chamber-top, Where whilom Edwin hung.
« EdellinenJatka » |