THE CULPRIT FAY. ("The exquisite poem of "The Culprit Fay' was composed hastily among the Highlands of the Hudson in the summer of 1819. The author was walking with some friends on a warm moonlight evening, when one of the party remarked that it would be difficult to write a fairy poem, purely imaginative, without the aid of human characters. The party was re-assembled two or three days afterward, and The Culprit Fay' was read to them, nearly as it is now printed.") Through the rifts of the gathering tempest's rack. The stars are on the moving stream, IS the middle watch of a summer's night; And naught is heard on the lonely hill 'The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; But the cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill Of the gauze-winged katydid, And the plaint of the wailing whip-poor-will, Who moans unseen, and ceaseless sings Ever a note of wail and woe, Till morning spreads her rosy wings, And earth and sky in her glances glow. 'Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell; Deep in the heart of the mountain oak, 'Twas made of the white snail's pearly shell- He waved his scepter in the air, "Midnight comes, and all is well! Hither, hither, wing your way y! 'Tis the dawn of the fairy day." They come from beds of lichen green, From the silver tops of moon-touched trees, Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, And rocked about in the evening breeze; Some from the hum-bird's downy nest; They had driven him out by elfin power, And pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast, Had slumbered there till the charmed hour; Some had lain in the scoop of the rock, With glittering ising-stars inlaid; And some had opened the four-o'clock, And stole within its purple shade. He looked around and calmly spoke; His brow was grave, and his eye severe, But his voice in a softened accent broke: 66 Fairy, Fairy, listen and mark! Thou hast broken thine elfin chain, Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, And thy wings are dyed with a deadly stain; Thou hast sullied thine elfin purity In the glance of a mortal maiden's eye; Thou hast scorned our dread decree, And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high; But well I know her sinless mind Is pure as the angel forms above, Gentle and meek and chaste and kind, Such as a spirit well might love; Fairy! had she spot or taint, Bitter had been thy punishment! Tied to the hornet's shardy wings, And now they throng the moon-light glade, Tossed on the pricks of nettle stings, Above, below, on every side, Their little minim forms arrayed In the tricksy pomp of fairy pride. They come not now to print the lea, For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow; To the elfin court must haste away, To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay. Hung the burnished canopy, Of the tulip's crimson drapery. And his peers were ranged around the throne. Or seven long ages doomed to dwell Of the worm and the bug and the murdered fly; These it had been your lot to bear, "Thou shalt seek the beach of sand, Where the water bounds the elfin land; Thou shalt watch the oozy brine Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine, Then dart the glistening arch below, "If the spray-bead gem be won, The stain of thy wing is washed away; But another errand must be done Ere thy crime be lost for aye: Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark. Thou must re-illume its spark. Mount thy steed and spur him high To the heaven's blue canopy, And when thou seest a shooting star, The last faint spark of its burning train The goblin marked his monarch well; And turned him round in act to go. His soiled wing has lost its power, And he winds adown the mountain high For many a sore and weary hour; Through dreary beds of tangled fern; Through groves of nightshade dark and dern; Over the grass and through the brake, Where toils the ant and sleeps the snake; Now over the violet's azure flush He skips along in lightsome mood; And now he threads the bramble-bush, Till its points are dyed in fairy blood. He has leaped the bog, he has pierced the brier, He has swum the brook, and waded the mire, And the red waxed fainter in his cheek. For rugged and dim was his onward track, back. He bridled her mouth with a silk-weed twist, With leap and spring they bound along, In murmurings faint, and distant moans; And ever, afar in the silence deep, Is heard the splash of the sturgeon's leap, The elfin cast a glance around As he lighted down from his courser toad, Then round his breast his wings he wound, And close to the river's bank he strode; He sprung on a rock, he breathed a prayer, Above his head his arms he threw, Then tossed a tiny curve in air, And headlong plunged in the waters blue. Up sprung the spirits of the waves From the sea-silk beds in the coral caves, With snail-plate armor snatched in haste, They speed their way through the liquid waste; Some are rapidly borne along On the mailed shrimp or the prickly prong; Some on the stony star-fish ride; His hope is high, and his limbs are strong; And throws his feet with a frog-like fling; He spreads his arms like the swallow's wing, His locks of gold on the water shine, Fearlessly he skims along; At his breast the tiny foam-beads rise, His back gleams bright above the brine, And the wake-line foam behind him lies. But the water-sprites are gathering near To check his course along the tide; Their warriors come in swift career, And hem him round on every side; He strikes around, but his blows are vain; He turned him round, and fled amain The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet, With the porpoise-heave, and the drumfish croak. Oh! but a weary wight was he, A sculler's notch in the stern he made, When he reached the foot of the dog-wood Like a feather that floats on a wind-tossed tree. Gashed and wounded, and stiff and sore, From the sorrel-leaf and the henbane bud; Over each wound the balm he drew, And with cobweb lint he staunched the blood. The mild west wind was soft and low, Wrapped in musing stands the sprite; "Tis the middle wane of night; His task is hard, his way is far, But he must do his errand right, Ere dawning mounts her beamy car, And rolls her chariot wheel of light; And vain are the spells of fairy-land; He must work with a human hand. He cast a saddened look around, But he felt new joy his bosom swell, When glittering on the shadowed ground, He saw a purple mussel-shell. Thither he ran, and he bent him low, stream, And momently across her track The quarl up-reared his island back, Till he came where the column of moonshine lay, And saw, beneath the surface dim, To catch the drop in its crimson cup. He sprang above the waters blue. He plunged him in the deep again, He heaved at the stern, and heaved at the Circled with blue, and edged with white, bow, And he pushed her over the yielding sand, As every fairy had traveled in, And sitting, at the fall of even, Beneath the bow of summer heaven. A moment, and its luster fell; But, ere it met the billow blue, He caught within his crimson bell A droplet of its sparkling dew. Joy to thee, Fay! thy task is done, Thy wings are pure, for the gem is won; Cheerly ply thy dripping oar, And haste away to the elfin shore. He turns, and low on either side, And the track o'er which his boat must pass Their sea-green ringlets loosely float; They swim around with smile and song, They press the bark with pearly hand, And gently urge her course along Toward the beach of speckled sand; And as he lightly leaped to land, They bade adieu with nod and bow, Then gaily kissed each little hand, And dropped in the crystal deep below. A moment stayed the fairy there; And gleams with blendings soft and bright, Up, Fairy! quit thy chick-weed bower; He put his acorn helmet on; It was plumed of the silk of the thistle-down; Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. He bared his blade of the bent grass blue; He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed, And away like a glance of thought he flew The moth-fly, as he shot in air, The prowling gnat fled fast away; shade, They quaked all o'er with awe and fear, For they had left the blue bent blade, And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear; They had been roused from the haunted ground They had heard the twang of the maizesilk string, When the vine-twig boughs were tightly drawn, And the nettle-shaft through the air was borne, Feathered with down of the hum-bird's wing; And now they deemed the courier ouphe Some hunter-sprite of the elfin ground; And they watched till they saw him mount the roof That canopies the world around; Then glad they left their covert lair, And freaked about in the midnight air. Up to the vaulted firmament He shivers with cold, but he urges fast; Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade, He lashes his steed and spurs amain, For shadowy hands have twitched the rein, And flame-shot tongues around him played, |