The book of British ballads . e on the greensward flings ;And, tired and languid, to his eyes Woos sorceress slumbers balmy wings. A prayer—a sigh, in murmurs faint, He whispers to the passing air;The Ave to his patron saint — The sigh was to his lady fair. Twas well that in that Elfin woodHe breathed the supplicating charm, Which binds the Guardians of the goodTo shield from all unearthly harm. Scarce had the nights pale Lady staidHer chariot oer th accustomed oak, Than murmurs in the mystic shadeThe slumberer from his trance awoke. Stiff stood his coursers mane with dread —His crouching grey
The book of British ballads . e on the greensward flings ;And, tired and languid, to his eyes Woos sorceress slumbers balmy wings. A prayer—a sigh, in murmurs faint, He whispers to the passing air;The Ave to his patron saint — The sigh was to his lady fair. Twas well that in that Elfin woodHe breathed the supplicating charm, Which binds the Guardians of the goodTo shield from all unearthly harm. Scarce had the nights pale Lady staidHer chariot oer th accustomed oak, Than murmurs in the mystic shadeThe slumberer from his trance awoke. Stiff stood his coursers mane with dread —His crouching greyhound whined with fear ; And quaked the wild-fern round his head,As though some passing ghost were near. Yet calmly shone the moonshine paleOn glade and hillock, flower and tree ; And sweet the gurgling nightingalePoured forth her music, wild and free. Sudden her notes fall hushed, and nearFlutes breathe, horns warble, bridles ring ; And, in gay cavalcade, appear The Fairies round their Fairy King. A. Crowquill del. 3 M. Qftt ^ucfe of ©tan-pall ir1- Twelve hundred Elfin knights and moreWere there, in silk and steel arrayed; And each a ruby helmet wore, And each a diamond lance displayed. And pursuivants with wands of gold,And minstrels scarfed and laurelled fair, Heralds with blazoned flags unrolled,And trumpet-tuning dwarfs were there. Behind, twelve hundred ladies coy, [Queen ; On milk-white steeds, brought up theirTheir kerchiefs of the crimson soy, Their kirtles all of Lincoln-green. Some wore, in fanciful costume, A sapphire or a topaz crown;And some a herns or peacocks plume, Which their own tercel-gents struck down : And some wore masks, and some wore hoods,Some turbans rich, some ouches rare; And some sweet woodbine from the woods,To bind their undulating hair. With all gay tints the darksome shadeGrew florid as they passed along, And not a sound their bridles madeBut tuned itself to Elfin song. Their steeds they quit;—the knights advance,And in quaint order, o
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