[Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) | ||
III
'Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell;The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;
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Deep in the heart of the mountain oak;
And he has awakened the sentry elve
Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree,
To bid him ring the hour of twelve,
And call the fays to their revelry;
Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell—
('Twas made of the white snail's pearly shell)
“Midnight comes and all is well!
Hither Goblins wing your way!
'Tis the dawn of the fairy day.”
[Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) | ||