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Yet much remaineth to tell of Oberon.
Whom lightly, by his countenance, ye had known,
To be his Peoples Sire. Long-agéd One,
His reverend beard hanged lowly to the ground.
His mantle was of wool, his sark of line;
All of the finest weft, hand-work, of Her,
Whom he loved best, in blissful wedlocks bond,
In all the World; his gentle Faerie Queen.
Two spans his royal person was of height;
After the measure of a human wight:
A thumb-breadth add, for his piked scarlet shoon.
But see, Great Heart in little corse, ye estéem
And rightly, Hím every whit, a faerie king.

184

Years many, after these things I have told;
(Moons were then blissful years, of faerie-kin;)
In much prosperity under noble Oberon;
Fays' Kingdom hath endured, in New Found Albion:
For not less just, than loved and wise he was.
Lived fays then gladly, under Sun and Stars.
Moreo'er they multiplied, so that every bush;
The Summer Inn was of some merry elf;
And under each hearth-stone a Puck did lodge.
Dame Holda Faerie-land paced, with Mothers steps;
Causing Her benign breath, all fruits to bud;
And the wild bread-corn plenteously to spring forth.
Horn oft of the wild hunt was heard then sound.
In chace of some forshaped swart skipping elf;
Into the ferlie form of forest beast.
Wild hounds him chased, and their sharp teeth had rent:
But, when he had enough, his borrowed hide,
(That turned then to sere leaves or birchen rind,)
He sloughed; and lightly on bough, Puck skips: from whence,
He laughs him double and his yelling foes,
Derides.

185

But sith ordained is all must pass,
Which neath the inconstant Moon hath breath and being;
And be, as that had never been: is come
At length his fatal day, when royal Oberon,
On hís bed-stead, breathed forth his noble spirit;
And no more was, in Faerie Nations sight:
Leaving his elfen, orphans, and fair Land
Of Albion widowed; where shall dwell his name,
Like to a Music sweet, in fays' full hearts.
Good, bountiful, and right gracious Lord he was.
Tidings from nigh and far, with joyful steps;
Brought daily his elves, to Oberons faerie court.
It pleased him, like his sons, to see them sit;
At board, in his great hall, ranged after worth:
And Speedwell, ancient steward of his House;
Set on before them, noon and evening meat.
Nor seld, would the King-fathers self converse;
With them, without proud looks, in homely sort;
Over the mead-cups, át the common hearth.
Nor parted any from him, without gifts.