Poems, and phancies written By the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, And Excellent Princess The Lady Marchioness of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Impression, much Altered and Corrected |
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The Pastime and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies in Fairy-Land, the Centre of the Earth.
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 | Poems, and phancies |  |
The Pastime and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies in Fairy-Land, the Centre of the Earth.
Queen Mab, and all her CompanyDance on a pleasant Mole-hill high,
To small Straw-pipes, wherein great Pleasure
They take, and keep just Time and Measure;
All Hand in Hand, Around, Around,
They Dance upon this Fairy-ground;
And when she leaves her Dancing Ball,
She doth for her Attendants call,
To wait upon Her to a Bower,
VVhere she doth Sit under a Flower,
To Shade her from the Moon-shine bright,
VVhere Gnats do Sing for her Delight,
Some High, some Low, some Middle strain,
Making a Consort very Plain;
The whilst the Bat doth Fly about,
To keep in Order all the Rout,
And with her VVings doth Soundly pay
Those, that make Noise, and not Obey.
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For the Queen's Bathe, where she doth Sit,
And her white Limbs in Beauty shew,
Like a new fallen Flake of Snow;
Her Maids do put her Garments on,
Made of the pure Light from the Sun,
Which do so many Colours take,
As Various Objects Shadows make:
Then to her Dinner she goes strait,
Where all Fairies in Order wait;
A Cover of a Cob-web made,
Is there upon a Mush-room laid;
Her Stool is of a Thistle-down,
And for her Cup an Acorn's Crown,
Which of strong Nectar full is fill'd,
That from Sweet Flowers is Distill'd;
Flies of all Sorts both Fat and Good,
As Quails, Snipes, Partridge, are her Food;
Pheasants, Larks, Cocks, and any Kind,
Both Wild and Tame, you there may find;
And Amelets made of Ants Eggs new,
Of these high Meats she Eats but few;
The Dormouse yields her Milk good store,
For Butter, Cheese, and many more;
This Milk makes many a fine Knack,
VVhen they fresh Ants Eggs therein Crack;
Pudding, and Custard, and Seed-Cake,
Her well-Skill'd Cook knows how to make;
To Sweeten them the Bee doth bring
Pure Honey, gather'd by her Sting;
But for her Guard serves Grosser meat,
Of Stall-fed Dormice they do Eat;
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In Coach, which is a Nut-shell fair;
The Lining's Soft and Rich within,
Made of a Glistering Adders Skin,
And there six Crickets draw her fast,
VVhen she a Journey takes in haste;
Or else two serve to Pace a Round,
And Trample on the Fairy Ground.
In Hawks sometimes she takes Delight,
VVhich Hornets are most Swift in Flight;
VVhose Horns instead of Talons will
A Fly, as Hawks a Partridge, Kill.
But if she will a Hunting go,
Then she the Lizzard makes the Doe,
Which is so Swift and Fleet in Chase,
As her Slow Coach cannot keep Pace:
Then on a Grashopper she'l Ride,
And Gallop in the Forest wide;
Her Bow is of a VVillow Branch,
To Shoot the Lizzard on the Haunch;
Her Arrow Sharp, much like a Blade,
Of a Rose-mary Leaf is made:
Then Home she's Called by the Cock,
VVho gives her warning what's the Clock;
And when the Moon doth hide her Head,
Their Day is done, she goes to Bed;
Meteors do serve, when they are Bright,
As Torches do, to give her Light;
Glow-worms for Candles Lighted up,
Stand on her Tabl', while she doth Sup;
And in her Chamber they are plac'd,
Not fearing how the Tallow waste:
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Can ne're fix in one place their Mind;
For she Impatient of Long stay,
Drives to the Upper-Earth away.
| Poems, and phancies | |