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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Author Unknown

The Fairy Queen

COME, follow, follow me—

You, fairy elves that be,

Which circle on the green—

Come, follow Mab your queen!

Hand in hand let’s dance around;

For this place is fairy ground.

When mortals are at rest,

And snoring in their nest,—

Unheard and unespied,

Through keyholes we do glide;

Over tables, stools, and shelves,

We trip it with our fairy elves.

And if the house be foul

With platter, dish, or bowl,

Up-stairs we nimbly creep,

And find the sluts asleep;

There we pinch their arms and thighs—

None escapes and none espies.

But if the house be swept,

And from uncleanness kept,

We praise the household maid,

And duly she is paid;

For we use, before we go,

To drop a tester in her shoe.

Upon a mushroom’s head

Our table-cloth we spread:

A grain of rye or wheat

Is manchet which we eat;

Pearly drops of dew we drink,

In acorn cups, filled to the brink.

The grasshopper, gnat, and fly,

Serve us for our minstrelsy;

Grace said, we dance awhile,

And so the time beguile;

And if the moon doth hide her head,

The glow-worm lights us home to bed.

On tops of dewy grass

So nimbly do we pass,

The young and tender stalk

Ne’er bends when we do walk;

Yet in the morning may be seen

Where we the night before have been.