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Exalt thy love-dejected heart,
Be mine the task, or ere we part,
To make thee grief refign;
Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce;
Whilft I with Mab, my part'ner, daunce, Be little Mable thine.
He spoke, and all a fudden there
The monarch leads the queen :
The reft their fairie part'ners found:
The dauncing paft, the board was laid,
Withouten hands the dishes fly,
But now to please the fairie king,
And antic feats devife;
Some wind and tumble like an ape,
In Edwin's wond'ring eyes.
'Till one at last that Robin hight,
Renown'd for pinching maids by night,
And full against the beam he flung,
Where by the back the youth he hung
From thence, "Reverse my charm, he cries, "And let it fairly now fuffice
"The gambol has been shown."
But Oberon answers with a smile,
Here ended all the phantom-play;
The whirling wind that bore the crowd
Then screaming all at once they fly,
Poor Edwin falls to floor;
Forlorn his ftate, and dark the place,
Was never wight in fuch a cafe
Thro' all the land before.
But foon as dan Apollo rofe,
Full jolly creature home he goes,
He feels his back the lefs;
His honeft tongue and steady mind
With lufty livelyhed he talks,
And beauteous Edith fees the youth,
The story told, Sir Topas mov'd,
To see the revel scene;
At close of eve he leaves his home,
As there he bides, it fo befell,
The wind came ruftling down a dell,
A fhaking feiz'd the wall:
Up fprung the tapers as before,
And mufic fills the hall.
But certes forely funk with woe
Sir Topaz fees the Elphin fhow,
His fpirits in him dy :
When Oberon crys, 66 a man is near,
With that Sir Topaz, hapless youth!
For als he been a mister wight
"Ah Lofell vile, at once they roar ; "And little skill's of fairie lore,
Thy cause to come, we know: "Now has thy keftrell courage fell; ← And fairies, fince a lye you tell ; "Are free to work thee woe."
Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire
He dangled from the chamber-top,
Where whilome Edwin hung.
The revel now proceeds apace,
They fit, they drink, and eat ;
By this the ftars began to wink,
For never spell by fairie laid
With ftrong enchantment bound a glade,
Beyond the length of night.
Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, up the welkin rose the day,
Then deem'd the dole was o'er:
But wot ye well his harder lot?
His feely back the bunch had got
Which Edwin loft afore.
This tale a Sybil-nurse ared;
She foftly ftroak'd my youngling head,
And when the tale was done,
"Thus fome are born, my fon, she cries, "With base impediments to rise,
"And fome are born with none.