Then Oberon spake the word of might
That set the enchanted cars in sight;
But lore I lack to tell aright
Copyright 1894 by Macmillan & Co.
Where these had waited hidden.
Perchance the clear airs round us rolled
In secret cells did them enfold,
Like evening dew that none behold
Till to the sward ’tis slidden.
And who can say what wizardise
Had fashioned them in marvellous wise,
And given them power to stoop and rise
More high than thought hath travelled?
Somewhat of cloud their frames consist,
But more of meteor’s luminous mist,
All girt with strands of seven-hued twist
From rainbow’s verge unravelled.
’Tis said, and I believe it well,
That whoso mounts their magic sell,
Goes, if he list, invisible
Beneath the broadest noonlight;
That virtue comes of Faery-fern,
Lone-lived where hill-slopes starward turn
Thro’ frore night hours that bid it burn
Flame-fronded in the moonlight;
For this holds true—too true, alas!—
The sky that eve was clear as glass,
Yet no man saw the Faeries pass
Where azure pathways glisten;
And true it is—too true, ay me—
That nevermore on lawn or lea
Shall mortal man a Faery see,
Tho’ long he look and listen.
Only the twilit woods among
A wild-winged breeze hath sometimes flung
Dim echoes borne from strains soft-sung
Beyond sky-reaches hollow;
Still further, fainter up the height,
Receding past the deep-zoned night—
Far chant of Fays who lead that flight,
Faint call of Fays who follow:
(Fays following.) Red-rose mists o’erdrift
Moth-moon’s glimmering white,
Lit by sheen-silled west
Barred with fiery bar;
Fleeting, following swift,
Whither across the night
Seek we bourne of rest?
(Fays leading.) Afar.