XXXII.

She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite, And they leaped with smiles, for well I ween Never before in the bowers of light Had the form of an earthly Fay been seen. Long she looked in his tiny face; Long with his butterfly cloak she played; She smoothed his wings of azure lace, And handled the tassel of his blade; And as he told in accents low The story of his love and woe, She felt new pains in her bosom rise, And the tear-drop started in her eyes. And “O, sweet spirit of earth,” she cried, “Return no more to your woodland height, But ever here with me abide In the land of everlasting light! Within the fleecy drift we’ll lie, We’ll hang upon the rainbow’s rim, And all the jewels of the sky Around thy brow shall brightly beam! And thou shalt bathe thee in the stream That rolls its whitening foam aboon, And ride upon the lightning’s gleam, And dance upon the orbéd moon! We’ll sit within the Pleiad ring, We’ll rest on Orion’s starry belt, And I will bid my sylphs to sing The song that makes the dew-mist melt; Their harps are of the umber shade That hides the blush of waking day, And every gleamy string is made Of silvery moonshine’s lengthened ray; And thou shalt pillow on my breast While heavenly breathings float around, And, with the sylphs of ether blest, Forget the joys of fairy ground.”