THE FAIRIES' LULLABY.

FROM "A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM," ACT II. SC. 3.

Enter TITANIA, with her train.

TITANIA. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song; Then, for the third part of a minute, hence ;Some, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds; Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings, To make my small elves coats; and some keep back The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep; Then to your offices, and let me rest.

SONG.

1 FAIRY.-You spotted snakes, with double tongue, Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen ;

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong:

Come not near our fairy queen.

CHORUS. Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:

Never harm,

Nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good-night, with lullaby.

2 FAIRY.-Weaving spiders, come not here,

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm, nor snail, do no offence.

CHORUS. Philomel, with melody, etc.

1 FAIRY.-Hence away; now all is well: One, aloof, stand sentinel.

[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps.

SHAKESPEARE.

FAIRIES' SONG.

WE the fairies blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,

Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter;
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels ;
Stolen, stolen be your apples.

When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then 's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling
Were it not for stealing, stealing.

From the Latin of THOMAS RANDOLPH.
Translation of LEIGH HUNT.

THE FAIRIES.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,-
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.

High on the hill-top

The old King sits;

He is now so old and gray
He 's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses:

Or going up with music

On cold starry nights,

To sup with the Queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.

They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow; They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lakes,

On a bed of flag-leaves,

Watching till she wakes.

By the craggy hillside,

Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring

To dig one up in spite,
He shall find the thornies set
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

KILMENY.

FROM "THE QUEEN'S WAKE.”

BONNY KILMENY gaed up the glen; But it wasna to meet Duneira's men, Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see, For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. It was only to hear the yorlin sing, And pu' the cress-flower round the spring,The scarlet hypp, and the hindberrye, And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree; For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. But lang may her minny look o'er the wa', And lang may she seek i' the green-wood shaw;

Lang the laird of Duneira blame,

And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame.

When many a day had come and fled, When grief grew calm, and hope was dead,

When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung,

When the bedesman had prayed, and the dead-bell

rung;

Late, late in a gloamin, when all was still,

When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,
The wood was sear, the moon i' the wane,
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain,—
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane;
When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme,
Late, late in the gloamin Kilmeny came hame!

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Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?
Lang hae we sought baith holt and den,—
By linn, by ford, and green-wood tree;
Yet you are halesome and fair to see.
Where got you that joup o' the lily sheen?
That bonny snood of the birk sae green?

And these roses, the fairest that ever was seen?
Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?"

Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace, But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face; As still was her look, and as still was her ee, As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare. Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew;