so bright--
Perhaps the little fairy folk
Will visit you to-night.

Robert Bird.

_A Fairy in Armor_

He put his acorn helmet on;
It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down;
The corslet plate that guarded his breast
Was once the wild bee's golden vest;
His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes,
Was formed of the wings of butterflies;
His shield was the shell of a lady-bug green,
Studs of gold on a ground of green;
And the quivering lance which he brandished bright,
Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
Swift he bestrode his fire-fly 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.

Joseph Rodman Drake.

_The Last Voyage of the Fairies_

Down the bright stream the Fairies float,--
A water-lily is their boat.

Long rushes they for paddles take,
Their mainsail of a bat's wing make;

The tackle is of cobwebs neat,--
With glow-worm lantern all's complete.

So down the broad'ning stream they float,
With Puck as pilot of the boat.

The Queen on speckled moth-wings lies,
And lifts at times her languid eyes

To mark the green and mossy spots
Where bloom the blue forget-me-nots:

Oberon, on his rose-bud throne,
Claims the fair valley as his own:

And elves and fairies, with a shout
Which may be heard a yard about,

Hail him as Elfland's mighty King;
And hazel-nuts in homage bring,

And bend the unreluctant knee,
And wave their wands in loyalty.

Down the broad stream the Fairies float,
An unseen power impels their boat;

The banks fly past--each wooded scene--
The elder copse--the poplars green--

And soon they feel the briny breeze
With salt and savour of the seas--

Still down the stream the Fairies float,
An unseen power impels their boat;

Until they mark the rushing tide
Within the estuary wide.

And now they're tossing on the sea,
Where waves roll high, and winds blow free,--

Ah, mortal vision nevermor