Laurella and other poems by John Todhunter |
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A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. |
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 | Laurella and other poems |  |
257
A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM.
Titania.—Late, as his wont, to tryst comes Oberon,
Tarrying till one sweet moonéd hour is gone,
And lazy-rising stars are mounted high
To gaze on our belated revelry.
Oberon.—
Reason the greater now being blithely met,
We waste no moment more in vain regret.
Place, my Titania, for thy tardy lord,
And peace between us happily be restored.
Sing, fairies, warblingly and soft; beguile
From my love's lips one welcome-beaming smile.
FAIRY SONG.
I.
Queen of all our elfin powers,Starlight mistress of the sprites
Who tend the leaves and feed the flowers,
And close day-wearied lids o' nights!
Sovran lady of sweet sound,
Born amid the crystal spheres,
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To rise and ravish mortal ears!
Smile; our harps wake but for thee!
Smile upon our melody!
II.
Speak, and at the word shall riseOn the smooth sward fresh and green,
In pomp of moonbright fantasies,
The palace of our Fairy Queen.
Opal lamps shall light thy throne,
Rich with treasures of the sea,
Great moths' gorgeous wings each zone
Shall send to make thy canopy;
And our native woods shall yield
Their most luscious hoards, concealed
From unhallowed mortal eyne.
Wilt thou that we bring thee wine
From spring-born cowslips thrice-distilled?
Or heath-bells to the brim up-filled
With sweetness guarded from the bee
Through long summer days for thee?
Or the honey-dew that lies
Deep in the woodbine's nectaries?
Or the blush of musk rose buds
Opening secretly in woods?
Or the wild-thyme's spiced perfume,
259
Carpets for fairies many a sod,
Where foot of man hath never trod?
Smile upon us as we sing
Merrily in our gambolling
Tripping featly in a ring.
Enough! we build no bower for ourselves.
To-night we fly to meet the merry elves
Who dance upon the ripples of the stream,
And in great water-lilies sway and dream,
Lulled by the song of spirits in the moon;
For on this night the festival of June
Is holden where old Nilus swells the seas,
And gracious shapes of gone mythologies
Mingle in mystic measures on the strand,
And all the kindly powers of the land
Meet Ocean's huge, foam-nurtured progeny;
And now at last the time is come, and we,
The greenwood troops of Western Faerie,
Neglected long, are summoned—
Titania.—
Not a foot
Stir I on such summons! I sit mute
Before these Ancient Ones, who claim as due
Reverence from all whom they style parvenue!
Oberon.—
Titania, cease! The river sprites await
Our coming, robed and ready in their state,
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That one more cycle dread, ages ago
Appointed, is fulfilled; and now at last
Our golden Summer, whose hope hath filled the past
With Spring, flies hither with the morning star!
To-night the spirits gather from afar,
Where sits the Mother-Sphynx, whose awful eyes
Look through the past to dim futurities,
To hail his orbéd rising. When his beams'
First silver trembles o'er the ocean streams,
The winds of dawn shall breathe some wondrous change,
And we no more, slaves of the moon, shall range.
Up and away, Titania! Quit your rings,
Ye jocund loiterers! Fairies, to your wings!
| Laurella and other poems | |