For every hedge of vegetable green,
In happier years a crowded street was seen,
Nor all thofe leaves, that now the profpect grace,
Could match the numbers of its pigmy race.
What urg'd this mighty empire to its fate,
A tale of woe and wonder, I relate.
When Albion rul'd the land, whofe lineage came
From Neptune mingling with a mortal dame,
Their midnight pranks the sprightly fairies play'd
On every hill, and danc'd in every fhade.
But, foes to fun-fhine, moft they took delight
In dells and dales conceal'd from human fight:
There hew'd their houses in the arching rock;
Or fcoop'd the bofom of the blasted oak;
Or heard, o'erfhadow'd by some shelving hill,
The distant murmurs of the falling rill.
They, rich in pilfer'd spoils, indulg'd their mirth,
And pity'd the huge wretched fons of earth.
Even now, 'tis said, the hinds o'erheard their strain,
And strive to view their airy forms in vain :
They to their cells at man's approach repair,
Like the shy leveret, or the mother hare,
The whilft poor mortals startle at the found
Of unfeen footsteps on the haunted ground.
Amid this garden, then with woods o'ergrown,
Stood the lov'd feat of royal Oberon.
From every region to his palace gate
Came peers and princes of the fairy state,
Who, rank'd in council round the facred shade,
Their monarch's will and great behefts obey'd.
From Thame's fair banks, by lofty tow'rs adorn'd,
With loads of plunder oft his chiefs return'd:
Hence in proud robes, and colours bright and gay,
Shone every knight and every lovely fay.
Whoe'er on Powell's dazzling ftage display'd
Hath fam'd king Pepin and his court furvey'd,
May guefs, if old by modern things we trace,
The pomp and splendor of the fairy race.
By magic fenc'd, by spells encompass'd round,
No mortal touch'd this interdicted ground;
No mortal enter'd, thofe alone who came
Stolen from the couch of fome terrestrial dame :
For oft of babes they robb'd the matron's bed,
And left some fickly changeling in their stead.
It chanc'd a youth of Albion's royal blood
Was fofter'd here, the wonder of the wood;
Milkah, for wiles above her peers renown'd,
Deep-fkill'd in charms and many a mystic sound,
As through the regal dome fhe fought for prey,.
Obferv'd the infant Albion where he lay
In mantles broider'd o'er with gorgeous pride,
And stole him from the fleeping mother's fide.
Who now but Milkah triumphs in her mind!
Ah wretched nymph, to future evils blind!
The time fhall come when thou shalt dearly pay
The theft, hard-hearted! of that guilty day:
Thou in thy turn fhalt like the queen repine,
And all her forrows doubled fhall be thine :
He who adorns thy house, the lovely boy
Who now adorns it, fhall at length destroy.
Two hundred moons in their pale course had seen
The gay-rob'd fairies glimmer on the green,
And Albion now had reach'd in youthful prime
To nineteen years, as mortals measure time.
Flush'd with refiftlefs charms he fir'd to love
Each nymph and little Dryad of the grove;
For skilful Milkah spar'd not to employ
Her utmost art to rear the princely boy :
Each fupple limb fhe fwaith'd, and tender bone,
And to the Elfin ftandard kept him down :
She robb'd dwarf-elders of their fragrant fruit,
And fed him early with the daify's root,
Whence through his veins the powerful juices ran,
And form'd in beauteous miniature the Man.
Yet still, two inches taller than the rest,
His lofty port his human birth confefs'd;
A foot in height, how stately did he show !
How look fuperior on the crowd below!
What knight like him could tofs the rufhy launce!
Who move fo graceful in the mázy dance!
A fhape fo nice, or features half fo fair,
What elf could boaft! or fuch a flow of hair!
Bright Kenna faw, a princess born to reign,
And felt the charmer burn in every vein.
She, heiress to this empire's potent lord,
Prais'd like the ftars, and next the moon ador'd.
She, whom at diftance thrones and princedoms view'd,
To whom proud Oriel and Azuriel fu'd,
In her high palace languish'd, void of joy,
And pin'd in fecret för a mortal boy.
He too was fmitten, and discreetly strove
By courtly deeds to gain the virgin's love;
For her he cull'd the fairest flowers that grew,
Ere morning funs had drain'd their fragrant dew;
He chas'd the hornet in his mid-day flight,
And brought her glow-worms in the noon of night;
When on ripe fruits she cast a wishing eye,
Did ever Albion think the tree too high!
He show'd her where the pregnant goldfinch hung,
And the wren-mother brooding o'er her young;
To her th' infcription on their eggs he read,
(Admire, ye clerks, the youth whom Milkah bred)
To her he fhow'd each herb of virtuous juice,
Their powers distinguish'd, and describ'd their use:
All vain their powers, alas! to Kenna prove,
And well fung Ovid, There's no herb for love.
As when a ghoft, enlarg'd from realms below,
Seeks its old friend to tell fome fecret woe,
The poor fhade fhivering ftands, and muft not break
His painful filence, 'till the mortal speak;
So far'd it with the little love-fick maid,
Forbid to utter what her eyes betray'd.
He faw her anguish, and reveal'd his flame,
And spar'd the blushes of the tongue-ty'd dame.
The day would fail me, should I reckon o'er
The fighs they lavish'd, and the oaths they fwore ;
In words fo melting, that, compar'd with thofe,
The niceft courtship of terrestrial beaus
Would found like compliments from country-clowns
To red-cheek'd sweet-hearts in their home-spun gowns.
All in a lawn of many a various hue,
A bed of flowers (a fairy forest) grew;
'Twas here one noon, the gaudiest of the May,
The ftill, the fecret, filent hour of day,
Beneath a lofty tulip's ample fhade
Sate the young lover and th' immortal maid.
They thought all fairies flept, ah luckless pair!
Hid, but in vain, in the fun's noon-tide glare!
When Albion leaning on his Kenna's breast,
Thus all the foftnefs of his foul exprefs'd.
• All things are hush'd. The fun's meridian rays 'Veil the horizon in one mighty blaze;
'Nor moon nor ftar in heav'n's blue arch is feen
'With kindly rays to filver o'er the green.
'Grateful to fairy eyes; they secret take
'Their reft, and only wretched mortals wake.
'This dead of day I fly to thee alone,
'A world to me, a multitude in one.
'Oh sweet as dew-drops on these flowery lawns,
'When the sky opens and the evening dawns!
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