So the day of their glory is over, THE CULPRIT FAY. BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. I. "TIS the middle, watch of a summer's nightThe earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; Naught is seen in the vault on high. But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky, A river of light on the welkin blue. She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast, Like starry twinkles that momently break II. The stars are on the moving stream, But the cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill And the plaint of the wailing whippoorwill, Till morning spreads her rosy wings, III. "Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell; And he has awakened the sentry elve Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree, Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell- 66 Midnight comes, and all is well! Hither, hither, wing your way! "Tis the dawn of the fairy-day." IV. They come from beds of lichen green, They creep from the mullen's velvet screen; Some on the backs of beetles fly From the silver tops of moon-touched trees, Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, And rocked about in the evening breeze; Some from the humbird's downy nest They had driven him out by elfin power, And, pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast, Had slumbered there till the charmèd hour; Some had lain in the scoop of the rock, With glittering ising-stars inlaid; And some had opened the four-o'clock, Their little minim forms arrayed V. They come not now to print the lea, And left for her his woodland shade; To the elfin court must haste away;- VI. The throne was reared upon the grass, On his brow the crown imperial shone; The prisoner Fay was at his feet, And his peers were ranged around the throne; He waved his scepter in the air, He looked around and calmly spoke; His brow was grave and his eye severe, VII. "Fairy! Fairy! list and mark : Thou hast broke thine elfin chain; Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, And thy wings are dyed with a deadly stainThou hast sullied thine elfin purity In the glance of a mortal maiden's eye, And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high. Now list, and mark our mild decree Fairy, this your doom must be: VIII. "Thou shalt seek the beach of sand Where the water bounds the elfin land; Thou shalt watch the oozy brine Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine; And catch a drop from his silver bow. Yet trust thee in thy single might: If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right, IX. "If the spray-bead gem be won, The stain of thy wing is washed away: But another errand must be done Ere thy crime be lost for aye; Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, Mount thy steed and spur him high And when thou seest a shooting-star, XXV. He put his acorn helmet on; It was plumed of the silk of the thistle-down; Was once the wild bee's golden vest; His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, Was formed of the wings of butterflies; His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, Studs of gold on a ground of green; And the quivering lance which he brandished bright, Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed; He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed, And away like a glance of thought he flew, |