Melfort.Who cries! In the night and the silence—who cries!

Chorus.SÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph.

Melfort.What was it?

Melfort.What was it?I hear but the whine of the wind

And the croak of the frogs in the grass. No more?

Chorus.SÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph.

Melfort.It was a sound of the pestilent fen;

The cry of a leveret lost from his lair,

Or scream of an adder-stung toad.

Or scream of an adder-stung toad.But soft.

The moon dies, and I sink each step

More deeply, and have missed my way.

The temperate candles of the town

Are lost, and I but see around me

The hectic fen-fires dancing. Ho!

What ho!

Chorus.SÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph,

SÚmph.

Melfort. No answer; no one comes.

It is the marsh, and I am in it

Right to the knees. This pays me well

For thinking of the bonny bride

And all her train of rosy maids,

When I should mark the way. But on—

Though my poor wedding shoes be done for

Ah, pah!—my brain is full of wine,

And all my being ripe for love.

Wine, wine, and marriage, and I best-man;

And liquor goes badly under the stars.

Young; rich for a farmer—well, who knows

But I too, myself, may be wedded soon.

(A shriek is heard.)

Who shrieks?

Chorus. Who shrieks?SÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph,

SÚmph.

Melfort. My God, it was behind me!

That sobers me!—Ho there, who shrieks?—

It is too near. What, am I drunk?

Am I sick? Do I reel?—The acid cry

Ran like a curdle through the blood.

Soft, soft, I must enquire here more.

A murder!—There, I am afraid

And wither where I stand; unarm’d—

But yet I’ll venture further. So!

A woman’s cry, touching the quick.

A friend! I come!

Frogs. A friend! I come!Kilkillutty cluck,

Clickutty cluck, clickutty cluck,

Click, cluck.

Melfort. Click, cluck.No answer.

Melfort. Click, cluck.No answer.Ho!

A friend! Give answer. Let me hear you

That I may find you.

Frogs. That I may find you.Hiccutty hac,

Hiccutty, huccutty, hiccutty hac.

Hicutty.

Melfort.Strange; nothing replies.

I plunge here like a dog at loss;

And all the sleeping startled pools

Exclaim against me, and the flowers—

Deep-drowsÈd water-lilies—wake

In nodding wonder.

In nodding wonder.A friend! I come!

Give answer! Ho!

Efts. Give answer! Ho!Tiu, Tiu,

Tiu, Tiu.

Melfort. No one replies.

Pools, pools, and water everywhere,

And midnight and the dying moon!

I am afraid, and my knees tremble.

No answer. Hush. There’s nothing stirs,

Save only the frogs in bubbled mire

And yonder swaying bulrushes

That by battalions beckon each other

In the murky moon. Look how—look how

The ghostly globes of fairy fire

Ooze from the marsh-mire and creep up

Their callow stems and leap in air,

Becoming fen-fires. Listen! Hark!

The croaking chorus of the fen.

Toads.Glick, gluck, glickutty gluck,

Glickutty, glickutty, glickutty gluck.

Melfort.See, see, my soul! O what is this?

A snake?—A steel that gleaming lies!

O my unerring ears—a dagger!

Frogs.Kil, kul, kil, kul,

Killutty, kul.

Melfort. Killutty, kul.The dagger is bloody!

The villain has stolen away his victim!

Stay, murderer, villain!

Frogs. Stay, murderer, villain!Hic, huc,

Hiccutty huc.

Melfort. Hiccutty huc.Here’s a deed!

But look you now upon this thing

Here by the livid moonlight seen.

Strange that this dagger so should drip

With blood yet be as bloody still

As ’twas before! It runs for ever.

See from the point a bloody stream

Runs on for ever, soaking earth!

I am enchanted! Ha, I gasp!

Are these but frogs that cry around—

Ten myriad frogs and toads that cry—

“Kill kill, kill, kill”?—Whom should I kill?

Frogs.Kil, kul, killutty kul,

Kil kil kil, kil kil kul.

Melfort.See, see in the moonlight—there on the bank—

A horror that lies!

A horror that lies!O pitiful God!

Look here! O pitiful sight!—dead, dead!

A maiden; and murdered and so pale!

What, here in the marsh!—A maiden—dead!

Chorus.SÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph, sÚmph.

Melfort.So beautiful, young, and yet so dead?

They have robbed her—the villains—and gone!

They have robbed her—the villains—and gone!See here,

A pitiful wound in the lovely breast;

And under the wound, among the grass,

A little glow-worm—as if it were

Her soul dropt out among the flowers—

Her soul dropt out of the wound!

Frogs. Her soul dropt out of the wound!Quuck,

Kilutty kullutty quickutty quuck.

Melfort.The marsh flowers that spring about her

Are busy to hide her in their arms,

With open mouths kissing her delicate flesh!

Toads.Huncutty hincutty huncutty hic,

Killutty quickutty kill, quick.

EvaÏd.Ah me!

Melfort. EvaÏd.Ah me!She is alive, and lifts

Her loaded lids!

EvaÏd. Her loaded lids!Ah me, I die.

Melfort.A witch! a fairy thing!—See here

A chaplet of flowers upon her brow—

Of lilies and daisies on her brow!

EvaÏd.Ah me, alas!

Melfort. EvaÏd.Ah me, alas!She looks at me—

And O the swooning light of her eyes!

If you will die thus beautifully,

Die thus for ever!

EvaÏd. Die thus for ever!O the pain!

Melfort.Am I a fool, a senseless stock,

To haver thus the while she dies!

Come, I will hide you in my coat,

Enwrap you here and hide you thus;

And press my kerchief to your wound.

(O beautiful breast; O bitter wound;

O cruel, carvÈd, bitter wound.)

Come, courage, come. Come lay your head

Here. Do not moan, for I will go

And fetch you succour from the town.

(She is not cold, but burns like fire—

For all her ebbing blood doth flow

In guilty oozing from her breast.

What, wounded in water, yet so warm!)

EvaÏd.I am dying. Let me be.

Let me perish, let me be.

Melfort.No, no, you shall not perish, dear,

For I will bring you succour soon.

So courage, my child—I will return.

EvaÏd.Do not leave me, do not grieve me,

Do not leave me ere I die;

If you leave me I shall perish;

Linger by me while I die.

Melfort.I must go and bring some aid for you,

Or you will die here in the marsh.

(Heavens, how she clings upon my arm;

Heavens, how her fingers cling upon me;

And O the swooning light of her eyes!)

What, shall I take you in my arms, then,

And bear you to the town?

And bear you to the town?I dare not.

What, do you clasp your arms about me,

Who should be dead by now! (Alas!

The languid head, the dying eyes!—

Yet she is warm; not chill, not cold,

Not like a corpse!) Hold up your head.

Why do you cling upon me? (God,

The slender, beautiful, long arms!)

EvaÏd.If you leave me, I shall perish;

If you grieve me, I shall die.

O the trembling and the torment,

O the trembling and the cold!

O the paining, O the pining,

O the paining in my wound!

Melfort.Come then, I’ll bear you.

Melfort.Come then, I’ll bear you.No, I will not.

What is it I hear?—the accursed frogs

That cry!

That cry!I will not carry you—

Not take you in my arms. I see

Some magic here. Maids crown’d with flowers

But dying wounded are not found.

See now I stand away. For listen!

They cry, “kill, kill.” The squatting toads

And gulping frogs do croak it forth,

And the lip-licking efts of the pool,

And worms, come out of the earth to cry it—

“Kill, kill; kill, kill.”—Whom should I kill?

The misty glamours of the moon

Amaze me; and you die not yet,

Who with that wounding should be dead.

There is some dire enchantment on me.

Why do you die not, being wounded—

And in the heart? When you are dead

I’ll carry you. Till then, lie there.

EvaÏd.Will you leave the poor one dying,

Lying dying, lying dying,

Lying in the cold cold water,

Sighing, dying all alone?

Melfort.Nay, then, I’ll take you—though I die.

The moon is magical and the marsh

Peopled with voices. So—your head

Upon my shoulder: thus. So, so;

And put your arms about me—so.

You may have trust in me—I’m honest,

And have a sister lives with me,

And she shall tend you. All the land

Shall follow to-morrow your murderer . . .

So there . . . your weight is but a child’s . . .

But stay, I have forgot the dagger—

The dagger that gleams on the glistening grass.

EvaÏd.No, no, leave it there;

Leave the dagger where it fell;

Leave the dagger burning bright;

Leave the bitter biting steel.

Melfort.No . . . I’ll take it. Now come on.

                       *

(He lifts her.)

Chorus.Sumph, sumph, sumph, sumph;

Sumphity, sumphity, sumphity sumph.

Melfort.So, so, sure and slow;

Where’s the way, I do not know.

Chorus.Sumph, sumph, sumph, sumph;

Glumphutty, glumphutty, glumphutty glumph.

Melfort.So, so, slow and sure;

Set the teeth hard, dumb and dour.

Frogs.Click, cluck, clickutty cluck.

Melfort.Now I’m stumbling, now I’m stuck.

Toads.Glick, gluck, glickutty gluck.

Melfort.Glory to mud and glory to muck.

Chorus.Ho, ho, hinkutty hong.

Melfort.No, no, not for long;

I am steadfast, I am strong.

Chorus.Ho, ho, hinkutty hong.

Melfort.Nothing can let me—not for long.

Now I’m free—we’ll go along.

See the pollards growing there

Like a row of dancing dwarfs;

How they listen, how they peer,

Look and listen, laugh and leer,

Black against the shrunken moon,

That will now be sinking soon,

Sinking in the sucking mud,

Yellow as evil, yellow as sin,

Like a murderer drown’d in blood.

See, see, see, see,

See the water-weeds that are

Frosted all with phantom fire

Oozing from the bubbling mire;

And on every reed a star,

Blue, blue, blue, and blear

Like a devil seated there.

Chorus.Ho, ha, hinkutty hong,

Sinkutty sonkutty sinkutty song.

Melfort.DamnÈd, damnÈd, damnÈd be

The fingers that hold me, foot and knee.

Chorus.Hing, ho, hinkutty hong,

Sing, song, sinkutty song.

Melfort.DamnÈd, damnÈd, damnÈd be

The time of the rhyme of the frogs of the marsh;

Damnable diapason of frogs . . .

Tune of the croon of the frogs of the fen . . .

Drumming and droning of the fen . . .

Beating and booming in my blood . . .

EvaÏd.Hear me, hear me, hear me, hear;

Shall I whisper in your ear?

Hush, hush, hush, hush;

Do not listen, do not hear.

Chorus.Sumph, sumph, sumph, sumph;

Sumphity, sumphity, sumphity sumph.

EvaÏd.Hear me, hear me, hear me, hear;

Shall I say it in your ear?

If I tell you do not hear,

Do not listen, do not hear.

Sigh, sigh, sigh, sigh,

Weep for the poor one who will die.

Dew-drops glisten so and die . . .

Die, die, die, die . . .

Do not listen, don’t reply.

Little Frog.Hi, ho, hinkutty han,

Here’s a foolish floundering man.

Bull-Frog.Hing, hong, strike up a song,

Strike up a chorus, strike up a song.

EvaÏd.If I tell you that I’m dying,

You will kiss me, softly sighing—

Kiss the poor one who is dying,

Dying, dying, dying, dying.

Shall I whisper, shall I tell you?

No, the sparkling stars will hear me—

Cold, keen, cruel stars—

They will hear me, hear me, hear me,

Hear me sighing, crying, dying.

O the paining, O the sorrow;

You’ll be sad for me to-morrow.

Melfort.Yes, tell me.

EvaÏd. Melfort.Yes, tell me.Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Melfort.Tell me, I say.

EvaÏd. Melfort.Tell me, I say.No, no;

You will die, O you will perish

If I tell you that I love you.

I’ll not tell you that I love you.

Me though chillÈd none shall cherish,

None would save me though I perish.

O the paining, O the sorrow;

None shall weep for me to-morrow,

Morrow, morrow, morrow . . .

Melfort. Morrow, morrow, morrow . . .Speak not!—

Or speak more harshly—for my heart

Swoons at the sweetness of your tongue.

Chorus.Hinkutty, hunkutty, hinkutty hunkutty,

Hing, ho, hing, ho.

This is the rhyme that goes in time,

Sing, ho, sing, ho—

The bold uproarious gladdening glorious

Jinketting, junketting, maddening rhyme.

Melfort.Are you dying so, yet singing?

Dying, dead, yet sing of love?

See your tender fingers clinging,

See your long locks lying gleaming,

Over all your beauty streaming,

In the moonlight, faint and low,

Let me leave you, let me go;

For you have enchanted me

With a moonlight-mystery,

And a dew-fire’s on your head;

But your weight is weight of lead;

And I cannot see your eyes,

Cannot see your faery eyes . . .

Let me linger, let me ken,

Let me view thee, peerless one—

Queen of the Marsh, Queen of the Fen—

Gaze my fill by the mystic moon,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one.

EvaÏd.Lover, lover, lover dear,

Shall I whisper in your ear?

Hush, hush, hush, hush;

Do not listen, do not hear.

Melfort.On your brow the dangling flowers

Die; but I will gather you more,

Gather you more, gather you more . . .

See your blood and burning gore

Soaks and scalds me to the core . . .

See I struggle, see I sink,

See I settle more and more.

There’s no solid ground that’s meet

Here to rest my aching feet—

Only isles of mocking reeds,

And the tendrils of the weeds,

Dragging me down, dragging me down;

And your weight is weight of lead . . .

But I love you madly now,

Love and kiss your magic brow,

Suck the sweetness from your lips

As the bee his honey sips . . .

Yet I know my day is done,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one.

Little Frog.Who slew the Wandering Jew?

Bull-Frogs.Mighty King Mud, mighty King Mud.

Melfort.Sadly, badly, madly I go,

Stumbling, tumbling, grumbling go,

Wearily wander, wearily go.

All my blood is weak and slow;

Heavily beats my heart below;

And it will be darkness soon,

For the night devours the moon.

Chorus.Down, down, down, down,

See the red moon drop and drown.

Bull-Frogs.Ho, ha, hinkutty hong,

Keep up the chorus, boys, keep up the song.

Frogs.Now for the jolly tune, now for the joy;

There’s no moonlight to annoy.

Crayfish.Hunch, munch, crickutty crunch,

Here’s a dead man for our lunch.

Snails.Hurry up, mate, or you’ll be late;

Things that are pleasant are soon out of date.

Efts. With our noses out of the flood,

We can sniff the delicate mud.

Mice.Creak, creak, creak, creak,

Some can sing and some can squeak.

Insects.Sum, sum, sum, sum,

We can make the marish hum.

Worms.In the day we creep along,

Trampled, weak, and suffering wrong;

But at midnight, in the mire,

Glow with phosphorescent fire.

Adders.For at night, night is light,

Bright is dark and dark is bright.

                       *

Melfort.Ah!

See, see, see, see.

See the silver stars above me;

Now the magic moon is sunken,

See them flash their flaming fires.

EvaÏd.O, O, O, O,

Hide me from them, hide me from them,

Hide me from their hateful eyes.

Melfort.See the dagger, silver bright.

Glitter in the starlight white.

EvaÏd.No, no, no, no;

Drop the dagger, drop the steel.

Melfort.See the dagger, clean and bright.

Gleaming in the starlight white.

Chorus.Hinkutty, honkutty, hinkutty han,

Kill her, kill her—if you can.

Bull-frogs.Ho, ha, yes—if you can.

Chorus.Yah, ho, yes—if you can;

Kill if you dare to, kill if you can.

EvaÏd.I was wounded, I was dying,

Like a broken lily lying,

Sighing, dying, I was lying . . .

Chorus.Kill, kill, kill, kill,

Kill if you dare to, kill if you can.

EvaÏd.“Put your head upon my breast;

I will bear you; be at rest;

I will bear you; I’m a man,

Man, man, man, man . . .”

Chorus.Hinkutty hoy, hinkutty han,

Kill her, kill her—if you can.

EvaÏd.“I will save you, never leave you,

I will heal you, never grieve you . . .”

Melfort.Now I see it, now I know it,

Know the meaning of the chorus,

Of the cursÈd croaking frogs.

EvaÏd.Press, press, press, press.

Press to your bosom, press to your heart;

Kiss and cure the cruel smart.

Or, if you’ll not kisses give,

I will kiss you, so, and live.

They who kisses ne’er receive,

Kisses give, kisses give.

Melfort.I must slay you, kill you, slay you.

Plunge the dagger in your heart,

Or you’ll drown me in the darkness,

Madden’d with your magic kisses;

For I know you now, my darling,

Haunter of the horrible fen.

O my Beauty, O my Darling,

I am drunk with love of you;

But I’ll stab you with this dagger;

I must kill you or I perish.

Do not shudder, do not shriek,

Do not shudder when I stab you,

For you are a faery thing.

EvaÏd.O no, no, no!

Do not kill me, do not stab me—

O, O, the burning steel.

See I love you, see I kiss you,

See I bind my arms about you.

Take the sharp point from my breast.

Melfort.Thus, thus, thus I stab you,

Kiss you, stab you, give you death;

Give you kisses, give you death;

Kiss your dying lips delicious,

Stab you in your tender breast.

EvaÏd.O, O, O, O,

Take away the steel tormenting!

Will you slay the poor thing dying?

She has kissed you, never harm’d you,

O the poor, poor dying thing . . .

Kiss her then and kill her so . . .

Lover, lover, lover dear,

Let me whisper in your ear—

Now I’m dying you may hear—

How I love you. Hush, hush,

Hush, hush, hush, hush;

Now I’m dying, I am dying.

O the paining, O the torment.

You’ll to-morrow hear the birds sing:

I shall never, I shall never.

Melfort.She is fading, melting, dying,

Melting, turning into water.

EvaÏd.Hush, hush, hush, hush;

I am dying, I am dead.

                       *

The Dawn-Wind.Sisters of the field awake,

Sweet children of the meads and rills

And of the wind-blown hills,

Flowers, little flowers!

O you that sleep in slumber deep,

Kissing and turn’d together

Between the sheltering heather,

Awake!

For the day-break.

Stars.Behold, the silver dawn is here,

Pearling the east with a light clear.

Our watch is ended; let’s begone;

The sun will follow soon anon.

Say, brothers, went your watching well? . . .

All’s well, all’s well.

Melfort.I wake! why, have I slept?—I hear

The fine shrill clarion of the cock.

I am alive then. O sweet Dawn,

Pearl of the sky, that makest clear

The old grey steeple in the east,

Wash from my soul this terrible night.

I breathe, I live; the air is pure.

Oberon

Titania,

and Puck

 

 

A boy sleeps on the wooded bank of a small river running

out upon the seashore. A night in spring.

 

Oberon.Well met by starlight, my Titania.

Titania.For thrice a hundred years we have not met!

Oberon.But drug’d by some mad magic have drowsed away

Three centuries in a night.

Titania. Three centuries in a night.The charm is broken.

Oberon.Thee in a crystal-cavern’d isle that weeps

Embargo’d on the bosom of a lake,

It caught in slumber mid thy maiden fays;

And in a blasted, bent, and strippen willow,

Pleading his bleach’d bones over a festering pool

In a black forest, me; and all our train,

So wont to win the air on wanton wings,

Imprison’d in the caves of bears or boles

Of mouldy oaks, in age-long lethargy—

Half dead, but for their beating hearts, that fright

The furry denizens dwelling there.

Titania. The furry denizens dwelling there.And so

The stars have spill’d their silvery beams in vain,

Teeming the flowers’ chalices with light,

But not for us; nor have we ever heard

The tree-top throstle clarioning the Spring.

Oberon. But million’d men, rid of our sooth control,

Like chattering magpies in a frozen field,

Or eyeless emmets pestering in the mire,

Have fought for foolish gods, and furrow’d earth,

And fed the sea, or sop’d the soil with blood,

All about nothing.

Titania. All about nothing.Who strew’d the spell? Some Sage?

Oberon.Rather some fool! For fools, ’tis writ, have power

To clamp the whole world in inviolate chains

Whene’er they wish!

Titania. Whene’er they wish!O dreadful law! But say,

My love and king, what curst particular fool

So persecutes us?

Oberon. So persecutes us?First the fool who made

God in his own image, and pent us up

A hundred years; and then a lower lown

Who taught us, all are equal; and a third,

That every raff should have his rights. Between them

Two centuries more they thrall’d us. Such the woe

When meddling men made Heaven so and so,

And Folly like a fitful gale essay’d

To blow predestined ocean from his bed.

Titania.But so think I.

Oberon. Titania.But so think I.Why then your creed prevails!

But it is scathless: fools are always males!—

So now that every sot has said his say,

Wisdom and we may get again our day,

To tell men if they live with love and mirth,

The earth is Heav’n indeed, and Heaven earth.

So, Fairies, come; and keep our old-time revel;

And let those ghosts go die to haunt the devil!

Puck.Hush, master! See a mortal lying near.

If he’s a fool, perchance he’ll overhear

And lock us up another hundred year.

Oberon.Go, then, my gentle Puck, and see

Who sleepeth there on yonder lea.

Puck.I vow, a truant boy from school,

And therefore not at all a fool.

Oberon.Be careful, friend, and do not err:

He may be a philosopher.

Puck.O, scarcely such a thing abhorrÈd:

I see indeed he has a forehead.

Oberon.Perchance he is—’tis my suspicion—

A prophet or a politician.

Puck.I gather neither: for he’s young,

And has not yet full-grown his tongue.

Oberon.A boy at midnight not abed,

Is either fairy-fain or dead.

Puck.I take the former—for he sleeps.

Three pennies in a pouch he keeps,

A mouse, a beetle in a box,

A candle, and some bits of rocks.

What’s here? A diamond? No, alas,

Only a piece—of pure glass!

My lord, I vow by this I know it,

Here’s not a fool, but but a poet.

Oberon.So then we’re safe. Let him sleep on,

And ride from Troy to Helicon.

Titania.Once more we breathe the summer-sweeten’d air.

Night, and the still stars, and the world are fair.

Oberon.Immortal; and the grumbling clouds descend,

Mingle with mists upon the verge, and end.

Titania.Now wearied Winter, with her aged eyes,

Sunk on a drift of last year’s dead leaves, dies;

Oberon.Earth opens, and green-spangling Spring leaps forth,

Laughing his warm breath to the unfrozen north.

Titania.Now even the airs of night are hot with balm,

That buds be heard uncurling through the calm;

Oberon.And o’er black banks of bryony and brier

White planets blaze like beacons guttering fire.

Titania.Now mystic, warm, the rich-enrobÈd Moon

Foots forth the eastern meads on silvery shoon.

Oberon.The rushes in the stream she rings aglance,

Like Indian maids, with anklets for the dance.

Titania.And the new-budded trees, like laughing girls,

Step forth from night, attirÈd in her pearls.

The Moon

Saphenix

Rout of Fairies Dancing

The Rill

Puck. Step forth from night, attirÈd in her pearls.Pray be still;

You sing ill; we’ve had our fill,

And brook no singers here who’re out of sight.

Puck and an Elf

Elf.I am the strong Gogogginbras.

Puck.What midget ronyon this? Whence come,

Thou pippin pip?

Elf. Thou pippin pip?From hanging gnats

By th’ neck, I come, fat wurzel king.

Puck.What, cobbold, crack your fleas i’ my face!

Speak, or you troll the trenchers round,

And supperless serve where you would sit.

Elf.Why then, in thick and throaty words

I’ll tell my tale, so rot the heav’ns.

Puck.So rot you too, you atom ouphe.

Elf.Deep in a forest of fell grass

A black and felon ant I found——

Puck.Fit foe for you.

Elf. Puck.Fit foe for you.With cunning base,

He gript me by the breeks behind.

I, not in quick distraction lost,

Made seizure of his armour’d throat

With the left gauntlet; with the right,

Feeling to where mine urgent blade,

Yclept by fame Yglaramene,

Slapt at my sinewy thigh, I drew it,

And flasht it in the pensive Moon.

Record me now what then befell!

The sickening stars waxt pale with fear;

The moon, tost in a sea of clouds,

Was nauseate; and the giant hills

Lookt and shock-headed grew with fright;

Eyed meteors stood in air dissolving,

And blankly stared themselves to nought;

The horrent trees, pencil’d with fire,

Agued, shook down their dewy wealth;

The bat and screech-owl whirring clasht

In mid-air; exhalations thin,

In which the mad fires dance at night,

Wasted; from stream and shimmering pool,

The fatling water-babies peept;

The wavering mazes that on lakes

Fairies do keep, the swinking toil

Of trolls within the ribbÈd earth,

Were ceased when my mad falchion blazed;

That, like the picking lightning, then

Smote the black dragon in his den.

Puck.’Twas brave!—Now on yon peering puffball

Kneel and with daisy stalk I’ll dubb you.

Rise up, Sir Goggamene.

Saphenix. Rise up, Sir Goggamene.See now!

Like lofty-clustering cloudlets bright and boon,

Good fairies climb to court th’ enthronÈd Moon;

But in the argent dark of shadowÈd earth,

What evil elves emerge to moil our mirth.

The Fen-Fires

Jack-o’-Lantern.Good-night t’ye, brother. What’s afoot?

How many dudheads have ye got?

Will-o’-the-Wisp.A many million is my quot.

Jack.What is your fire?

Will. Jack.What is your fire?I brew it hot

From politicians’ reek and rot,

Who call me Fairy Lot-for-Lot.

And I bear it in my chafing-dish

That all may have whate’er they wish.

If mortal wants what he has not,

He chases others who have got;

And so indeed I drown the lot,

Like gasping gudgeons in a pot.

Jack.For me, I bear a nobler flame,

That crowns me King in Heaven’s name.

Whene’er I call, each patriot

Follows me forth to die and rot;

And mortals call me Shot-for-Shot.

Ho, ho!

Will.So, so! Let’s join the dance.

The Dance of the Fen-Fires

Song of the South Wind

Pynthanix and Saphenix

Pynthanix.So then the evil creatures fly!—

But tell me, gentle sister, why?

Saphenix.For Evil hath but a single eye,

And cannot see but only spy;

If others with two eyes come near,

Away he scuttles full of fear.

Pynthanix.I thank you for advice to hand,

Which even I half understand.

But tell me now who sleeps below

In silver star-beams dreaming so?

Saphenix.Who has no cash can always owe it;

And who no wit, become a poet.

Pynthanix.But why do the gnat-wing’d fairies peer

About him, whispering in his ear,

Or lightly dancing round him weave

Their revels?

Saphenix.  For he can achieve

Perfections others scarce conceive.

Pynthanix.And why do glow-worms so surround him,

Like stars of blue fire that have found him?

Saphenix.For so within a single spark

He gathers the glory of the dark.

But now the Great Change cometh—hark!

Pynthanix.What Spirit this that cleaves the air

With lightning eyes and streaming hair!

The Spirit

The Stars

The Flowers

Pynthanix.See, see, the Spirit that clove the air

With lightning eyes and stormy hair,

His mission done and soaring far,

Hath now become the Morning Star!

Saphenix.The clouds grow clear in the east, and high

The pearl of dawn o’erspreads the sky.

The Lark

The Cock

The Hens

The Cock

The Ass

The Pigs

The Hunter

The Philosopher

(The Sun rises with a thunder-clap of light.)

The Sun

From the throng’d and thick world under,

I arise with step of thunder.

Through the mantle of my fire,

Through my flaming locks of hair,

Glows the form that all desire,

But more bright than they can bear;

For although I make men see,

None can dare to gaze on me.

Whether I rise in fire or blood,

Mortals hail me lord or god.

Then, before my battling knees,

Bubbling boil the surging seas,

And the clouds are writhing brent

By my fiery chastisement.

With my right hand held on high,

I let Life, the Angel, fly;

With my left, I grip and quell

Death, the Old Man, drag’d from hell.

But ye men, who bow so low

At my gorgeous orient, know

That for ever in chains I go.

I am lord for I am slave;

Conqueror because I save;

Master for I must obey;

God because I burn away.

Though my lordly planets pace,

Peers before my sovran face,

In them every grain of sand

Governs me with like command.

So within my empery,

Only he who serves is free

And shall win the victory.

           The Boy awakes