THE CULPRIT FAY. His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, And the quivering lance which he brandished bright, Swift he bestrode his firefly steed; He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed, And away like a glance of thought he flew, To skim the heavens and follow far The fiery trail of the rocket-star. XXVI. The moth-fly, as he shot in air, Crept under the leaf, and hid her there; The katy-did forgot its lay, The prowling gnat fled fast away, The fell moscheto checked his drone And folded his wings till the Fay was gone, And the wily beetle dropped his head, And fell on the ground as if he were dead; For they had felt the blue-bent blade, And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear; Many a time on a summer's night, When the sky was clear, and the moon was bright, 37 They had been roused from the haunted ground, By the yelp and bay of the fairy hound; They had heard the tiny bugle-horn, They had heard the twang of the maize-silk string, Some hunter sprite of the elfin ground; And they watched till they saw him mount the roof That canopies the world around; Then glad they left their covert lair, And freaked about in the midnight air. XXVII. Up to the vaulted firmament His path the firefly courser bent, Till the first light cloud in heaven is past, But the shapes of air have begun their work, And a drizzly mist is round him cast, He cannot see through the mantle murk, He shivers with cold, but he urges fast, Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade, He lashes his steed and spurs amain, THE CULPRIT FAY. For shadowy hands have twitched the rein, And yells of rage, and shrieks of fear, Came screaming on his startled ear. His wings are wet around his breast, And gashed their shadowy limbs of wind; 39 Howling the misty spectres flew, They rend the air with frightful cries, For he has gained the welkin blue, And the land of clouds beneath him lies XXIX. Up to the cope careering swift In breathless motion fast, Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift, On a sheet of azure cast. O! it was sweet in the clear moonlight, To meet the thousand eyes of night, And feel the cooling breath of heaven; But the Elfin made no stop or stay Till he came to the bank of the milky-way, Then he checked his courser's foot, And watched for the glimpse of the planet-shoot. XXX. Sudden along the snowy tide That swelled to meet their footsteps' fall, THE CULPRIT FAY. The sylphs of heaven were seen to glide, Around the Fay they weave the dance, With warblings wild they lead him on To where through clouds of amber seen, XXXI. But oh! how fair the shape that lay She seemed to the entranced Fay Her mantle was the purple rolled 'Twas tied with threads of dawning gold, 41 |