Whence through his veins the powerful juices ran,
And form'd in beauteous miniature the man.
Yet ftill, two inches taller than the reft,
His lofty port his human birth confeft;
A foot in height, how ftately did he show!
How look fuperior on the crowd below!

What knight like him could tofs the rushy lance!
Who move fo graceful in the mazy dance!

A fhape fo nice, or features half fo fair,
What elf could boat! or fuch a flow of hair!

Bright Kenna faw, a princess born to reign,
And felt the charmer burn in every vein.
She, heiress to this empire's potent lord,
Prais'd like the ftars, and next the moon ador'd,
She, whom at distance thrones and princedoms view'd,
To whom proud Oriel and Azuriel fued,

In her high palace languish'd, void of joy,
And pin'd in fecret for a mortal boy.

He too was fmitten, and difcreetly ftrove
By courtly deeds to gain the virgin's love.
For her he cull'd the faireft flowers that grew,
Ere morning funs had drain'd their fragrant dew,
He chac'd the hornet in his mid-day flight,

And brought her glow-worms in the noon of night;
When on ripe fruits fhe caft a wifhing eye,
Did ever Albion think the tree too high!
He fhow'd her where the pregnant goldfinch hung,
And the wren-mother brooding o'er her young;
To her th' infcription on their eggs he read,
(Admire, ye clerks, the youth whom Milkah bred)

To her he fhow'd each herb of virtuous juice,
Their powers diftinguish'd, and defcrib'd their ufe:
All vain their powers, alas to Kenna prove,
And well-fung Ovid, "There's no herb for love."
As when a ghoft, enlarg'd from realms below,
Seeks its old friend to tell fome fecret woe,
The poor fhade fhivering ftands, and must not break
His painful filence, till the mortal speak:
So far'd it with the little love-fick maid,
Forbid to utter, what her eyes betray'd.
He saw her anguish, and reveal'd his flame,
And spar'd the blushes of the tongue-ty ́d dame.
The day would fail me, should I reckon o'er
The fighs they lavish'd, and the oaths they swore
In words fo melting, that compar'd with those
The nicest courtship of terrestrial beaux

Would found like compliments, from country clowns
To red-cheek'd fweet-hearts in their home-fpun gowns.
All in a lawn of many a various hue

A bed of flowers (a fairy forest) grew;

'Twas here one noon, the gaudieft of the May, The ftill; the fecret, filent, hour of day,

Beneath a lofty tulip's ample fhade

Sat the young lover and th' immortal maid.
They thought all fairies flept, ah, luckless pair!
Hid, but in vain, in the fun's noon-tide glare !
When Albion, leaning on his Kenna's breaft,
Thus all the foftnefs of his foul expreft:

All things are hufh'd. The fun's meridian rays Veil the horizon in one mighty blaze:

* Nor

Nor moon nor ftar in heaven's blue arch is feen
With kindly rays to filver o'er the green,
Grateful to fairy eyes; they fecret take
Their reft, and only wretched mortals wake.
This dead of day I fly to thee alone,
A world to me, a multitude in one.

Oh, fweet as dew-drops on these flowery lawns,
When the sky opens, and the evening dawns!
Straight as the pink, that towers fo high in air,
Soft as the blow-bell! as the daify, fair!
Bleft be the hour, when firft I was convey'd
An infant captive to this blissful shade!
And bleft the hand that did my form refine,
And fhrunk my stature to a match with thine!
Glad I for thee renounce my royal birth,
And all the giant-daughters of the earth.
Thou, if thy breaft with equal ardour burn,
Renounce thy kind, and love for love return.
So from us two, combin'd by nuptial ties,
A race unknown of demi-gods shall rise.
O fpeak, my love! my vows with vows repay,
And sweetly fwear my rifing fears away.'
To whom (the shining azure of her eyes
More brighten'd) thus th' enamour'd maid replies:
By all the stars, and first the glorious moon,

I fwear, and by the head of Oberon,
A dreadful oath ! no prince of fairy line
Shall e'er in wedlock plight his vows with mine.
Where-e'er my footsteps in the dance are feen,
May toadstools rife, and mildews blast the

4

green,

• May

May the keen eaft-wind blight my favourite flowers,
And fnakes and fpotted adders haunt my bowers.
'Confin'd whole ages in an hemlock fhade
There rather pine I a neglected maid,

Or worfe, exil'd from Cynthia's gentle rays,
Parch in the fun a thousand fummer-days,
Than any prince, a prince of fairy line,
• In facred wedlock plight his vows with mine.'
She ended and with lips of rofy hue

Dip'd five times over in ambrofial dew,
Stifled his words. When, from his covert rear'd,
The frowning brow of Oberon appear'd.

A fun-flower's trunk was near, whence (killing fight!
The monarch'd iffued, half an ell in height:

Full on the pair a furious look he caft,

Nor fpoke; but gave his bugle-horn a blast

That through the woodland echoed far and wide,
And drew a fwarm of subjects to his fide.
A hundred chofen knights, in war renown'd,
Drive Albion banish'd from the facred ground;
And twice ten myriads guard the bright abodes,
Where the proud king, amidft his demi-gods,
For Kenna's fudden bridal bids prepare,
And to Azuriel gives the weeping fair.

If fame in arms, with antient birth combin'd,
A faultless beauty, and a spotless mind,
To love and praise can generous fouls incline,
That love, Azuriel, and that praife, was thine.
Blood, only less than royal, fill'd thy veins,
Proud was thy roof, and large thy fair domains.

Where

Where now the fkies high Holland-House invades,
And fhort-liv'd Warwick fadden'd all the fhades,
Thy dwelling ftood: nor did in him afford
A nobler owner, or a lovelier lord.

For thee a hundred fields produc'd their store,
And by thy name ten thoufand vaffals fwore;
So lov'd thy name, that, at their monarch's choice,
All fairy fhouted with a general voice.

Oriel alone a fecret rage fuppreft,

That from his bofom heav'd the golden veft.
Along the banks of Thame his empire ran,
Wide was his range, and populous his clan.
When cleanly fervants, if we trust old tales,
Befide their wages had good fairy vails,
Whole heaps of filver tokens, nightly paid
The careful wife, or the neat dairy-maid,

Sunk not his ftores. With fmiles and powerful bribes
He gain'd the leaders of his neighbour tribes,
And ere the night the face of heaven had chang'd,
Beneath his banners half the fairies rang'd.

Mean-while, driven back to earth, a lonely way
The chearless Albion wander'd half the day,

A long, long journey, choak'd with brakes and thorns
Ill-meafur'd by ten thousand barley-corns.
Tir'd out at length, a fpreading ftream he spy'd

Fed by old Thame, a daughter of the tide :

Twas then a spreading stream, though now, its fame
Obfcur'd, it bears the Creek's inglorious name,
And creeps, as through contracted bounds it ftrays,
A leap for boys in thefe degenerate days.

On