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I. FAERY GLIMPSES.

The spirits that do dress the flowers with dew,
And trip it on the greensward, by the moon,
And play fantastic tricks, both late and soon,
When March with blossoms promises the Spring,—
Have been about me in the merriest ring.
Methought among their forms were some I knew.
They came with hushing laughter,—for I slept
Beneath our willows—slily round me crept,
And prankt my brow with blossoms,—in my ear
Whisper'd the wildest dreams of elfin land,
Then, in a circle, dancing hand in hand,
Sung me a ditty from the Moon's own sphere:—
Starting from slumber, in the dear delight
Of such a vision, it was gone from sight.