. The culprit fay . To bicy^^lg^a^^ Aj#call mi fays to their revel: .Twelve small strokes on his tinklm^# bell- 3g (Twas made of the white snails^ pearly shell); J^Qlh %* Midnight comes, and all is well!Hither, hither, wing your way!Tis the dawn of the fairy They come from beds of lichen green,They creep from the mullens velvet screen;Some on the backs of beetles flyFrom the silver tops of moon-touched trees,Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high,And rocked about in the evening breeze;Some from the humbirds downy nest—

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidculpritfay01, bookyear1903