For secret favours in the midnight glooms;
Brave Spenser quaff’d out of their goblets golden,
And saw their tables spread of prompt mushrooms,
And heard their horns of honeysuckle blooms
Sounding upon the air, most soothing soft,
Like humming bees busy about the brooms,—
And glanced this fair Queen’s witchery full oft,
And in her magic wain soared far aloft.
“’Twas they first school’d my young imagination