That laws of human wedlock loosely bind
The airier fancies of the Elfin kind.

LXII.

Of all King Oberon's manifold connexions,
(The loveliest daughters both of Elves and Men)
She who the most took hold of his affections
Was the young blue-eyed Fairy Guendolen ;
Through whose dark story, as I hate reflections
On such sad subjects, I shall draw my pen;
Just stating that Titania soon discover'd
Around what charms the King's attention hover'd.

LXIII.

And Guendolen's dread fate was never known,
Nor could e'en Oberon's self presume to guess
Whether she was condemn'd for aye to moan
Within the dark earth's innermost recess;
Or bound with ice-chains to the frigid zone,
In her most white and tender nakedness;
Or-but in short Titania was a Tartar,
And so 'tis sure her rival proved a martyr.

LXIV.

She left one daughter, lovelier than the Hours,
The infant pledge of her unhappy love;
Whom Oberon convey'd to distant bowers,
And nurtured in a deep, enchanted grove,
Beyond the reach of fierce Titania's powers-
Kind reader, when tow'rd Westmoreland you rove,
You'll find it (if still extant) somewhere near
The classic margin of Winandermere.

LXV.

Sweet Tryamour!-she grew apace and flourish'd
In the fresh vigour of her infant years,
By gentlest sprites, with food ambrosial, nourish'd,
And filling oft her Father's eyes with tears,
Swift gushing at the thought of her who perish'd
For his ill-omen'd love.-Beyond her peers
Shone this sweet child in beauty, and became
The loveliest thing that bore the Faery name.

LXVI.

And to that charmed forest, day by day,

Came crowds of Faery suitors-wondrous forms Dashing the lightning from their wings away, And riding on the necks of winds and storms, From distant Ind and desert Africa,

And the fair Western regions-countless swarms Of unimaginable beings, all

Of glorious shape and mien majestical.

LXVII.

In vain they came :—the coy retiring maiden Received them coldly and deferred to wed: Whether her Mother's dreadful story weigh'd on

Her mind, and made her shun a Fairy's bed, Or whether some strange spell her heart was laid on, I know not-but a single life she led ;

Choosing, in perfect freedom, still to rove
Amongst her maidens in the charmed grove.

LXVIII.

Viewless alike to mortal and immortal,

Within that grove her crystal palace stood;

Not e'en could Faery footsteps pass its portal
To interrupt her virgin solitude;

But thither, at her summons, did resort all

Beautiful dreams, and visions bright and good, And Powers at whose strong bidding is unfurl'd The deep and secret beauty of the world.

LXIX.

The elements obey'd her-she had power

O'er frost and blight and thunder and eclipse, Could raise the wind, and bid the welkin lower, And founder, in their harbours, mightiest ships: But oftener fell the cooling summer shower At the mild bidding of her gentle lips; And flowers sprang forth, and hawthorn buds appear'd

For she chose rather to be loved than fear'd.

LXX.

She loved mankind, and all mankind loved her; For, though no eye had seen her, maidens felt Her presence in the green leaves' rustling stir, And in the vernal breeze which seem'd to melt Into their hearts; the humble cottager,

Who in that old mysterious forest dwelt, Knew she was near him, and ne'er fail'd to bless The Fairy for the season's fruitfulness.

LXXI.

All kindly deeds were hers.-The hopes and fears Of love-the bridal bed-the first-born's sleep On his young mother's bosom, bathed in tears

Which that first fondness cannot choose but weep

The young bard's dreams-the sports of childish

years,

By her were blest; and often would she keep Her moonlight watch beside the maiden's grave, And bid fresh flow'rets o'er its verdure wave.

LXXII.

This brings me back to Blanch, whose fate I'd nearly Forgotten, and Sir Launfal soon forgot,

Though, when he heard it, he was shock'd severelyPoor thing!-you recollect he loved her not, Which broke her heart, for which I grieve sincerely; Her's was indeed a melancholy lot;

And I'm extremely sorry to confess

'Twas Tryamour that caused it—more or less.

LXXIII.

Nor let the reader deem this inconsistent

For And females, when they've love for an assistant, And a young handsome gentleman in view, Assume a harshness from their nature distant, And use a luckless rival like a Jew.

my sweet Fairy was a female too,

When once a woman's heart's in palpitation,
She's neither conscience nor consideration.

LXXIV.

It chanced that at the time when England's court
Was at its height of frolic, show, and revel,
To do the new Queen honour, in such sort
As in those days was judged correct and civil,
The Fairy left her wood, to view the sport,
Not wishing or designing any evil;

But merely meditating an excursion,

To see, and haply share, the court's diversion.

LXXV.

Invisibly she roam'd (this gamesome Fairy)
Through hall, state-chamber, and superb saloon;
Peep'd e'en into the kitchen and the dairy;

Saw all the humours of the Honey-Moon;
Laugh'd loud, and sometimes, in a mad vagary,
At balls put flutes and fiddles out of tune;
Or suddenly extinguish'd all the tapers,
Or tripp'd up hapless dandies in their capers.

LXXVI.

But on one luckless morn, as it befell,

She went to see a tournament, wherein The brave Sir Launfal bore himself so well,

And look'd so handsome when he chanced to win, That, over head and ears, in love she fell,

And vow'd 'twould be a burning shame and sin, If such a noble Knight should waste his worth On any daughter of the sons of Earth.

LXXVII.

And from that day Sir Launfal's wealth declined,
And ladies look'd upon him with cold eyes;
It seem'd as if some spell had struck them blind,
Though you may guess the reason, if you're wise.
These two misfortunes mostly are combined—

As soon as wealth deserts you, girls despise ; And when you've ceased to be a "speculation," You lose, at once, all claim to toleration.