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IN FAIRY-LAND.BYRICHARD DOYLE.
A Rehearsal in Fairy ,and. Musical Elf teaching the young birds to sing.B/* ir
By RICHARD DOYLE.WITH A POEM,BYWILLIAM ALLINGHAM.LONDON:LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, & DYER.1870.I'
ILLUSTRATIONS.Plate I.A 'REHEARSAL IN FAIRY-LAND Frontispiece.Plate II.THE FAIRY PRINCE IN LOVE To follow page IPlate III.FLIRTING.CLIMBING.STEALING.REPOSING 3Plate IV.TRIUMPHAL MARCH OF THE ELF-KING 5Plate V.CRUEL ELVES.A DANCING BUTTERFLY.THE ELF-KING ASLEEP.THE TOURNAMENT 7Plate VI.A RACE OF SNAILS.PART OF TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS. (See Plate IV.) 9Plate VII.THE FAIRY QUEEN'S MESSENGER.SAYING "BO!" TO A BEETLE.ELF AND OWLS.TEASING A BUTTERFLY IPlate VIII.A LITTLE PLAY, IN THREE ACTS . 13
ILLUSTRATIONS.Plate IX.DRESSING THE BABY-ELVES.A MESSENGER BY MOONLIGHT.REJECTED! To follow page 15Plate X.WATER-LILIES AND WATER FAIRIES 7. 17Plate XI.AN EVENING RIDE.A-SERENADE.FAIRY CHILD'S PLAY .. 19Plate XII.AN INTRUDER.FLYING AWAY.WOOD ELVES AT PLAY ... ,, 21Plate XIII.THE FAIRY QUEEN TAKES AN AIRY DRIVE. 23Plate XIV.AN ELFIN DANCE BY NIGHT .. 25Plate X V.FEASTING AND FUN AMONG THE FUSCHSIAS.POOR LITTLE BIRDIE TEASED.COURTSHIP CUT SHORT ,, 27Plate X VI.ASLEEP IN THE MOONLIGHT . 29ENGRAVED AND PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS.*~--- '~, "'I,
AFOREST IN FAIRYLAND.DA WN.First Fairy.FAIRIES and Elves!Gone is the night,Shadows grow thin,Branches are stirr'd;Rouse up yourselves,Sing to the light,Fairies, begin,-There goes a bird!Second Fairy.For dreams are now fading,Old thoughts in new morning;Dull spectres and goblinsTo dungeon must fly.The starry night changeth,Its low stars are setting,Its lofty stars dwindleAnd hide in the sky.First Fairy.Fairies, awake!Light on the hills!Blossom and grassTremble with dew;Gambols the snake,Merry bird shrills,Honey-bees pass,Morning is new.
-HIS is the Prince who travelled from a far country that he might place his crown at the feet of thatwayward Fairy, who is seen seated upon her throne, a toadstool. l-e also offers her his heart, andhis hand; and besides, he begs her acceptance of priceless gifts, which are carried in casketsof gold by his numerous train of retainers (Elves of the highest rank and first families inFairy-land). There are earrings, necklaces, and bracelets of the most beautiful preciousstones,-coral not more red than her lips, turquoises almost as blue, and diamonds almost asbright, as her eyes: at least, the Fairy Prince said so.
3Second Fairy.Pure joy of the cloudlets,All rippled in crimson!Afar over world's edgeThe night-fear is roll'd;O look how the Great OneUplifts himself kingly;At once the wide morningIs flooded with gold!First Fairy.Fairies, arouse!Mix with your songHarplet and pipe,Thrilling and clear.Swarm on the boughs!Chant in a throng!Morning is ripe,Waiting to hear.Second Fairy.The merle and the skylarkWill hush for our chorus,Quick wavelets of music,Begin them anon!Good-luck comes to all thingsThat hear us and hearken,-Our myriads of voicesCommingling in one.General Chorus.Golden, goldenLight unfolding,Busily, merrily, work and play,In flowery meadows,And forest-shadows,All the length of a summer day!All the length of a summer day!
Sprightly, lightly,Sing we rightly!Moments brightly hurry away!Fruit-tree blossoms,And roses' bosoms,-Clear blue sky of a summer day!Dear blue sky of a summer day!Springlets, brooklets,Greeny nooklets,Hill, and valley, and salt-sea spray!Comrade rovers,Fairy lovers, -All the length of a summer day!All the livelong summer day!FORE NOON.Two Fairies.Greeting, brother!Greet thee well!Hast thou any news to tell ?How goes the sunshine?
J-c"A"rXTriumphal March of the Elf-King.This important personage, nearly related to the Goblin family, is conspicuous for the length of his hair, which on state occasions it requires four pages to support. Fairies in waiting strew flowers in his path,and in his train are many of the most distinguished Trolls, Kobolds, Nixies, Pixies, Wood-sprites, birds, butterflies, and other inhabitants of the kingdom.
7Flowers of noonAll their eyes will open soon,While ours are closing. What hast doneSince the rising of the sun?Four wild snails I've taught their paces,Pick'd the best one for the races.Thou ?Where luscious dewdrops lurk,I with fifty went to work,Catching delicious wine that wetsThe warm blue heart of violets;Last moon it was hawthorn-flower,Next moon 'twill be virgin's bower,Moon by moon, the varied rose,-To seal in flasks for winter mirth,When frost and darkness wrap the earth.Which wine delights you, fay?All those;But none is like the Wine of Rose.With Wine of Rose,In midst of snowsThe sunny season flows and glows!Elf, thou lovest best, I think,The: time to sit in a cave and drink.Is't not well to have good reason,Thus, for loving every season?Whiterose-wineIs pure and fine,But Redrose-dew, dear tipple of mine!The red flow'rs budIn our summery blood,And the nightingale sings in our brain, like a wood!
Saying "Bo!" to a Beetle.The Fairy Queen's Messenger.Elf and Owls.Teasing a Butterfly.
Some who came a-gathering dew,Tasting, sipping, fresh and new,Tumbled down, an idle crew,And there among the grass they lie,Under a toadstool; any flyMay nip their foolish noses!SoonWe shall hear the Call of Noon.They cannot stir to any tune.No evening feast for them, be sure,But far-off sentry on the moor.Whence that sound of music ?-hist!Klingoling, chief lutanist,A hundred song-birds in a ringIs teaching all this morn to singTogether featously, to fillThe wedding-music,-loud and shrill,Soft and sweet, and high and low,Singled, mingled. He doth knowThe art to make a hundred heardLike one great surprising bird.Here comes Rosling! He'll reportAll the doings of the court.A Third Fairy.Greeting, brothers!Greet thee well!Hast thou any news to tell?Our dear Princess, what shadow liesDrooping on her blissful eyes ?Her suitors plague her ?-is it so?
Amongst the sports and pastimes of the Little People, there was, once upon a time, a great race of all the swiftest snails in Fairyland.0This is part of the Tritumphal Progress represented on a previous page; but owing to the delay caused by the tricks and gambols of the Elves, and the practical jokesof some of the birds, they have been left behind hv the rest of the Procession.
IISo in truth it is. But, lo!Who comes our way? Fairy, whence?Thou'rt a stranger.A Fourth Fairy.No offence,I trust, altho' my cap is blue,While yours are green as any leaf.Courteous fays! no spy or thief.Is here, but one who longs to viewYour famous Forest; most of allYour fair Princess, the praised in songWheresoever fairies throng.Oft you see her ?Third Fairy.Every day.And is she lovely as they say?Thou hast not seen her ? Dost thou thinkBlue and golden, white and pink,Could paint the magic of her face?All common beauty's highest placeBeing under hers how far !-how far!A glowworm to the evening-star.Scarce Klingoling could say so well!'Tis true: so much she doth excel.Come, fairy, to our feast to-night,Two hours from sunset; then you maySee the Forest-Realm's Delight.But were it not presumptuous?Nay,
Si "'l' .'Cruel Elves.A Dancing Butterfly.I":1/-1The Elf-King asleep.The Tournament..4 I'ncn ,itefit. 2 1-I A
13Thou art, I ween, a gentle fay,And sure of welcome.It is saidHer Highness shortly means to wed?Next full moon, by fairy law,She must marry, no escape,. Were it marsh-sprite, kobold, shapeCreeping from earth-hole with horn and claw!And hath she now a suitor ?Three;Bloatling, Rudling, Loftling; sheLoathes them all impartially.The first is ugly, fat, and rich,Grandson of a miser-witch;He sends her bossy peonies,Fat as himself, to please her eyes,And double-poppies, mock flow'rs madeIn clumsy gold, for brag display'd;Ten of the broadest-shoulder'd elvesTo carry one must strain themselves.First Fairy.Aye! so I've seen them.Second Fairy.This is moreThan I ever heard before.Third Fairy.Field-marshal Rudling, soldier fay,His beard a broom to sweep awayOpposition, with his frownBiddeth common fairies "Down!"Down on your knees !" and then his smile,Our sweet Princess's heart to wile-
-1Enter, an Elf in search of a Fairy. IIe finds her, and this is the consequence.SHIS is a little Play, inThree Acts.Scene:. a Toadstool.Characters: a sentimentalElf and a waywardFairy.She runs away, and this is his condition.
15Soft as a rat-trap! and his voice-Angry jay makes no such noiseWhen bold marauders threat (as you,Little Jinkling, sometimes do)Her freckled eggs.Fourth Fairy.And Loftling ?True.Prince Loftling's chin, so grand is he,Is where another's nose would be;His high backbone the wrong way bendsWith nobleness. He condescendsTo come in state to our poor wood;And then 'tis always understoodWe silence every prattling bird,Nor must one grasshopper be heard;Which tasks our people; sweet PrincessBeing nigh half-dead with wearinessOf'ceremonial and precision,-"Madam, with your august permission,"I have the honour to remark-"Ah hum! ah haw!" from dawn to dark.He will not win her?No, no, no!Dreary the wood if that were so,Good stranger. But enough, I ween,Of gossip now.Kind Cap o' Green,I thank thee for thy courtesies!Brightkin's my name, my country liesRound that blue peak your scout espiesFrom loftiest fir-tree on the skiesOf sunset. So I take my leaveTill the drawing-on of eve.
Dressing the ably-Elves.A Messenger by Moonlight.Rejected!
I7They call me Rosling, gentle fay.Adieu! forget not; here I'll stayTo meet thee and to show the way.Adieu! adieu! till close of day.THE NOON-CALL.Hear the call!Fays, be still!Noon is deepOn vale and hill.Stir no soundThe Forest round!Let all things hushThat fly or creep,-Tree and bush,Air and ground!Hear the call!Silence keep!One and allHush, and sleep!
)ATER-LILIES and Water Fairies of the period. Is it a grand aquatic procession? or is it only a party> of Water Fairies disporting themselves ? or are they racing? One Fairy Water Nymph is drawn on in herLily-boat with the aid of a Kingfisher; another, floating in a flower, is helped forward by a Duck; athird is assisted by a flying Goblin. A Frog carrying an Elf on his back seems about to jump intothe stream, out of which a Fish pops his head, and appears to be making a remark.* '.
19NEAR SUNSET.Two Fairies: Rosh'ng and 7inkling.Little Jinkling! friend of mine!Where dost lurk when fairies dine?All the banquet round and roundSearching, thee I never found.Comest thou late? The feast is done;Slowly sinks the mighty sun.Nay, fay! I was far away.Over the tree-tops did I soarTwenty leagues and twenty more.Swift and high goes the dragon-fly,And steady the death's-head moth,But the little bird with his beak awryIs a better saddle than both!The lovely Lady of Elfin-Mere,I had a message for her ear.Of state?Of state: of import great,I must not even to thee relate.And, is she fair ?Thrice-fair is she:The pearly moon less delicately
An Evening Ride. SerenadeFairy Child's Play.Manners and Customs of some of the natives of Fairyland.S,
Comes shining on, than when this LadyFrom her water-palace shadyFloats across the lucent lake,And all her starry lilies makeObeisance; every water-spriteGazing after with delight,Only wishing he might dareJust to touch her streaming hair.Meanwhile, crowds of fairies glideOver, under, the crystal tide,Sbme on swimming-birds astride,Some with merry fishes at play,Darting round her rippling way.There was your banquet?There indeed,Among the lily and the reed.Wavy music, as we feasted,Floating round us while we floated,Soothed our pleasure and increased it;Mirth and jest more gaily glancingThan the water-diamonds dancingDown the lake where sunshine smote it.Bright and gay!-might not stay!-White the hand I kiss'd, O fay,Leap'd on my bird, and sped away.Hast any news to tell me?Much!Never didst thou hear of such.A fight with spiders ?-hornets ?-perilsTeasing owls, or chasing squirrels?Or some little elf, poor soul,Lost in a winding rabbit-hole?Are the royal trees in danger?
Flying away.An Intruder.Wood Elves at Play.
23Dost thou mind the Blue-cap Stranger,Brightkin by his name, that weMet ere noontide lullaby?Came he to your Feast?My friend,Ask no more questions, but attend!To the Feast he came with me,The chamberlain most courteouslyPlacing us nigh the upper end.Her Highness bow'd, and Brightkin gazedOn her face like one amazed,While the Princess's tender eyesRested with a sweet surpriseUpon the stranger-fairy: roundWent cates and wines, and KlingolingWith five new birds began to sing.Then came a page on errand boundTo ask the stranger's name and realm:" Brightkin, of the Purple Helm," From the Blue Mountain, fairy knight," Flown thence to view the Forest,-might"It please her Highness." It did please.So by-and-by we sat at easeIn shadowy bow'r, a favour'd ring,Now talking, now with KlingolingJoin'd in a chanting melody;And evermore there seem'd to be'Twixt Brightkin and the dear PrincessA concord more than string with stringTo form the lute's harmoniousness.At last he took the lute and sung,With modest grace and skilfully,For tipt with honey seem'd his tongue;At first a murmuring melody,Like the far song of falling rillsAmid the foldings of the hills,
,. *The Fairy Quteen takes an airy drive in a light carriage, a twelve-in-hand, drawn, by thoroughbred butterflies,el~l ;"F :I 8_-I~~7F"I*T:4ml e"'A:I!SEEM~B-"I~ I: :kr~-Th arQ en ae i iv rv nalgltcrie at-lei-anda nb flrLIlICdb teiiS
25And ever nearer as it flew,Shaping its figure, like a bird,Till into Love's own form it grewIn every lovely note and word.So sweet a song we never heard!When, think what came?I cannot think.A trumpet-blast that made us wink!A hailstorm upon basking flowers!Quick, sharp!-we started to our feet,All save her Highness, mild and sweet,Who said, " See who invades our bowers."Who was. it, Rosling? quickly say!The King of the Blue Mountains, fay,Seeking audience, without delay.Fierce and frowning his look at first,Like that uncivil trumpet-burst;But all his blackness alter'd soon,Like clouds that melt upon the moon,Before the gentle dignityOf Her, Titania's child, whom weObey and love.Blest may she be!But wherefore came the haughty King?Hear briefly an unusual thing.His only son, the prince and heir,Kept with too strict and jealous careWithin the mountain boundaries,To-day o'erleaps them all, and flies,
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27No elf knows whither: flies to-day-The Lord of Gnomes being on his way,Bringing to that mountain courtHis gem-clad heiress. Here was sport!Then couriers told the angry kingThey saw the prince on gray-dove's wingThreading our forest; and again,That he had join'd our Lady's train."-" Madam! is't so?" " If this be so," Great sir, I nothing know." When lo!Brightkin outspringing kneels. " My son!"Exclaims the king-" Ho! seize and bind him!"But swift her Highness-" Stay! let none" Move hand or foot! Great King, you find him"Here in the Forest-Realm, my rule"Whereof no fairy power may school,"Saving imperial Oberon."Free came he hither, free shall go."I nothing knew that this was so."Then says the prince, " If you command,"I leave you, Pride of Fairyland,"Else never!" Briefly now to tell,As briefly all these things befell,'Twas clear as new-born star they loved;The Mountain-King their love approved;And all were happy.Where are they,The King and Prince, now?Flown awayOn the sunset's latest ray.To-morrow they will come again,With a countless noble train;And next full moon-the Wedding-Feast!O joy! the greatest and the leastWill join the revelry, and bringA marriage-gift of some fine thing.
Poor little Birdie teased.F ig_
29I know a present she will prize -A team of spot-wing'd butterflies,Right in flight, or else with easeWinding through the tops of trees,Or soaring in the summer sky.Well done, Jinkling!-now goodbye;Sleepy as a field-mouse I,When paws and snout coil'd he doth lie.Hark to Klingoling's lute-playing!On the fir-tree-spire a-swayingGently to the crescent moon.I cannot stay to hear the tune.I linger in the drowsy light.And so, goodnight!And so, goodnight!
aaAsleep" in the moonlig'ht. The dancing Elves have all gone to rest; the King and Queen are evidently friends again, and, let us hope, lived happily ever afterwards.
31AFTER SUNSET.Klingoling and a Faint Ckorus.Moon soon sets now:Elves cradled on the bough.Day's fays drop asleep:Dreams through the forest creep.When broadens the moonlight, we frolic and jest;When darkles the forest, we sink into rest.Shine, fine star above!Love's come, happy love!Haste, happy wedding-night,Full moon, round and bright!And not till her circle is low in the westWe 'll cease from our dancing, or couch us to rest!Lute, mute fall thy strings!Hush, every voice that sings!Low, slow, sleepy song,Fade forest-aisles along!Of all thy sweet music a love-song is best!-Thou hushest-we're silent-we sink into rest.
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