The revel now proceed apace,
Deftly they frisk it o'er the place,

They sit, they drink, and eat;
The time with frolic mirth beguile,
And poor sir Topaz hangs the while

Till all the rout retreat.

By this the stars began to wink,
They shrink, they fiy, the tapers sink,

And down ydrops the knight:
For never spell, by fairie laid,
With strong enchantment bound a glade,

Beyond the length of night.

Chill

, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, Till up the welkin rose the day,

Then deem'd the dole was o'er :
But wot ye well his harder lot?
His seely back the bunch had got

Which Edwin lost afore.

This tale a sybil nurse ared;
She softly stroak'd my youngling head,

And when the tale was done,
"Thus some are born, my son,' she cries,
"With base impediments to rise,

And some are born with none.

But virtue can itself advance
To what the favourite fools of chance

By fortune seem'd design'd;
Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
And from itself shake off the weight

Upon th' unworthy mind.'

Parnell.

THE FAIRIES! FAREWELL.

FAREWELL, rewards and fairies!

Good housewives now may say;. For now foul sluts in dairies

Do fare as well as they ; And though they sweep their hearths no less

Than maids were wont to do, Yet who of late for cleanliness

Finds sixpence in her shoe?

Lament, lament, old abbies,

The faries' lost command !
They did but change priests' babies,

But some have chang'd your land:
And all your children stol'n from thence

Are now grown Puritans,
Who live as changelings ever since,

For love of your domains.

At morning and at evening both

You merry were and glad,
So little care of sleep and sloth

These pretty ladies had.
When Tom came home from labour,

Or Ciss to milking rose,
Then merrily went their tabour,

And nimbly went their toes.

Witness those rings and roundelays

Of theirs, wbich yet remain, Were footed

queen Mary's days On many a grassy plain.

But since of late Elizabeth

And later James came in ; They never danc'd on any heath,

As when the time had been. By which we note the fairies

Were of the old profession; Their songs were Ave Maries,

Their dances were procession. But now, alas! they all are dead,

Or gone beyond the seas, Or further for religion fled,

Or else they take their ease. A tell-tale in their company

They never could endure; And whoso kept not secretly

Their mirth, was punish'd sure : It was a just and Christian deed

To pinch such black and blue:
O how the commonwealth doth need

Such justices as you !
Now they have left our quarters ;

A registrar they have,
Who can preserve their charters;

A man both wise and grave.
An hundred of their merry pranks

By one that I could name
Are kept in store! con twenty thanks

To William for the same.
To William Churne of Staffordshire

Give laud and praises due,
Who every meal can mend your cheer

With tales both old and true ;

VOL. V.

To William all give audience,

And pray ye for his noddle; For all the fairy's evidence

Were lost, if it were addle.

Corbet.

THE FROLICSOME DUKE *. Now as Fame does report, a young duke keeps

a court, One that pleases his fancy with frolicsome sport : But among all the rest, here is one, I protest, Which will make you to smile when you hear the

true jest. A poor linker he found lying drunk on the ground, As secure in a sleep as if laid in a swound.

The duke said to his men, William, Richard, and

Ben, "Take him home to my palace, we'll sport with

him then.' O'er a horse he was laid, and with care soon con

vey'd To the palace, although he was poorly array'd: Then they stripp'd off his clothes, both liis shirt,

shoes, and hose, And they put him to bed for to take his repose.

Having pull’d off his shirt, which was all over dirt, They did give him clean holland, which was no

great hurt:

* The story is told of Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy.

On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown,
They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his

crown.
In the morning when day, then admiring he lay,
For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay.

Now he lay something late, in his rich bed of state,
Till at last knights and 'squires they on him did

wait;
And the chamberlain bare then did likewise de.

clare,
He desired to know what apparel he'd wear :
The poor tinker, amaz'd, on the gentleman gazd,
And admired how he to his honour was rais'd.

1

Though he seem'd something mute, yet he chose a

rich suit,
Which he straightways put on without longer dis-

pute;
With a star on each side, which the tinker oft eyed,
And it seem'd for to swell him no little with pride;
For he said to himself, 'Where is Joan, my sweet

wife?
Sure she never did see me so fine in her life.'

From a convenient place the right duke his good

grace
Did observe his behaviour in every case.
To a garden of state on the tinker they wait,
Trumpets sounding before him ; thought he, This

is great :
Where an hour or two pleasant walks he did view,
With commanders and’squires in scarlet and blue.