"Or take him by that sole and grizzled tuft, That hangs upon his bald and barren crown; And we will sing to see him so rebuff'd, And lend our little mights to pull him down, And make brave sport of his malicious frown, For all his boastful mockery o'er men.

For thou wast born, I know, for this renown, By my most magical and inward ken, That readeth ev'n at Fate's forestalling pen."

CV.

"Nay, by the golden lustre of thine eye, And by thy brow's most fair and ample span, Thought's glorious palace, framed for fancies high, And by thy cheek thus passionately wan, I know the signs of an immortal man,-- Nature's chief darling, and illustrious mate, Destined to foil old Death's oblivious plan, And shine untarnish'd by the fogs of Fate, Time's famous rival till the final date!"

CVI.

"O shield us then from this usurping Time, And we will visit thee in moonlight dreams; And teach thee tunes, to wed unto thy rhyme, And dance about thee in all midnight gleams, Giving thee glimpses of our magic schemes, Such as no mortal's eye hath ever seen; And, for thy love to us in our extremes, Will ever keep thy chaplet fresh and green, Such as no poet's wreath hath ever been!"

CVII.

"And we'll distil thee aromatic dews, To charm thy sense, when there shall be no flow'rs; And flavor'd syrups in thy drinks infuse, And teach the nightingale to haunt thy bow'rs, And with our games divert thy weariest hours, With all that elfin wits can e'er devise.

And, this churl dead, there'll be no hasting hours To rob thee of thy joys, as now joy flies":-- Here she was stopp'd by Saturn's furious cries.

CVIII.

Whom, therefore, the kind Shade rebukes anew, Saying, "Thou haggard Sin, go forth, and scoop Thy hollow coffin in some churchyard yew, Or make th' autumnal flow'rs turn pale, and droop; Or fell the bearded corn, till gleaners stoop Under fat sheaves,--or blast the piny grove;-- But here thou shall not harm this pretty group, Whose lives are not so frail and feebly wove, But leased on Nature's loveliness and love."

CIX.

"'Tis these that free the small entangled fly, Caught in the venom'd spider's crafty snare;-- These be the petty surgeons that apply The healing balsams to the wounded hare, Bedded in bloody fern, no creature's care!-- These be providers for the orphan brood, Whose tender mother hath been slain in air, Quitting with gaping bill her darling's food, Hard by the verge of her domestic wood."

CX.

"'Tis these befriend the timid trembling stag, When, with a bursting heart beset with fears, He feels his saving speed begin to flag; For then they quench the fatal taint with tears, And prompt fresh shifts in his alarum'd ears, So piteously they view all bloody morts; Or if the gunner, with his arms, appears, Like noisy pyes and jays, with harsh reports, They warn the wild fowl of his deadly sports."

CXI.

"For these are kindly ministers of nature, To soothe all covert hurts and dumb distress; Pretty they be, and very small of stature,-- For mercy still consorts with littleness;-- Wherefore the sum of good is still the less, And mischief grossest in this world of wrong;-- So do these charitable dwarfs redress The tenfold ravages of giants strong, To whom great malice and great might belong."

CXII.

"Likewise to them are Poets much beholden For secret favors in the midnight glooms; Brave Spenser quaff'd out of their goblets golden, And saw their tables spread of prompt mushrooms, And heard their horns of honeysuckle blooms Sounding upon the air most soothing soft, Like humming bees busy about the brooms,-- And glanced this fair queen's witchery full oft, And in her magic wain soar'd far aloft."

CXIII.

"Nay I myself, though mortal, once was nursed By fairy gossips, friendly at my birth, And in my childish ear glib Mab rehearsed Her breezy travels round our planet's girth, Telling me wonders of the moon and earth; My gramarye at her grave lap I conn'd, Where Puck hath been convened to make me mirth; I have had from Queen Titania tokens fond, And toy'd with Oberon's permitted wand."

CXIV.

"With figs and plums and Persian dates they fed me, And delicate cates after my sunset meal, And took me by my childish hand, and led me By craggy rocks crested with keeps of steel, Whose awful bases deep dark woods conceal, Staining some dead lake with their verdant dyes.

And when the West sparkled at Phoebus' wheel, With fairy euphrasy they purged mine eyes, To let me see their cities in the skies."

CXV.

"'Twas they first school'd my young imagination To take its flights like any new-fledged bird, And show'd the span of winged meditation Stretch'd wider than things grossly seen or heard.

With sweet swift Ariel how I soar'd and stirr'd The fragrant blooms of spiritual bow'rs!

'Twas they endear'd what I have still preferr'd, Nature's blest attributes and balmy pow'rs, Her hills and vales and brooks, sweet birds and flow'rs."

CXVI.

"Wherefore with all true loyalty and duty Will I regard them in my honoring rhyme, With love for love, and homages to beauty, And magic thoughts gather'd in night's cool clime, With studious verse trancing the dragon Time, Strong as old Merlin's necromantic spells; So these dear monarchs of the summer's prime Shall live unstartled by his dreadful yells, Till shrill larks warn them to their flowery cells."

CXVII.

Look how a poison'd man turns livid black, Drugg'd with a cup of deadly hellebore, That sets his horrid features all at rack,-- So seem'd these words into the ear to pour Of ghastly Saturn, answering with a roar Of mortal pain and spite and utmost rage, Wherewith his grisly arm he raised once more, And bade the cluster'd sinews all engage, As if at one fell stroke to wreck an age.

CXVIII.

Whereas the blade flash'd on the dinted ground, Down through his steadfast foe, yet made no scar On that immortal Shade, or death-like wound; But Time was long benumb'd, and stood ajar, And then with baffled rage took flight afar, To weep his hurt in some Cimmerian gloom, Or meaner fames (like mine) to mock and mar, Or sharp his scythe for royal strokes of doom, Whetting its edge on some old Caesar's tomb.

CXIX.

Howbeit he vanish'd in the forest shade, Distantly heard as if some grumbling pard, And, like Nymph Echo, to a sound decay'd;-- Meanwhile the fays cluster'd the gracious Bard, The darling centre of their dear regard: Besides of sundry dances on the green, Never was mortal man so brightly starr'd, Or won such pretty homages, I ween.

"Nod to him, Elves!" cries the melodious queen.

CXX.

"Nod to him, Elves, and flutter round about him, And quite enclose him with your pretty crowd, And touch him lovingly, for that, without him, The silkworm now had spun our dreary shroud;-- But he hath all dispersed Death's tearful cloud, And Time's dread effigy scared quite away: Bow to him then, as though to me ye bow'd, And his dear wishes prosper and obey Wherever love and wit can find a way!"

CXXI.

"'Noint him with fairy dews of magic savors, Shaken from orient buds still pearly wet, Roses and spicy pinks,--and, of all favors, Plant in his walks the purple violet, And meadow-sweet under the hedges set, To mingle breaths with dainty eglantine And honeysuckles sweet,--nor yet forget Some pastoral flowery chaplets to entwine, To vie the thoughts about his brow benign!"

CXXII.

"Let no wild things astonish him or fear him, But tell them all how mild he is of heart, Till e'en the timid hares go frankly near him, And eke the dappled does, yet never start; Nor shall their fawns into the thickets dart, Nor wrens forsake their nests among the leaves, Nor speckled thrushes flutter far apart;-- But bid the sacred swallow haunt his eaves, To guard his roof from lightning and from thieves."