NIMPHIDIA
THE COVRT OF FAYRIE
Olde Chavcer doth of Topas tell,
Mad Rablais of Pantagruell,
A latter third of Dowsabell,
With such poore trifles playing:
Others the like haue laboured at
Some of this thing, and some of that,
And many of they know not what,
But that they must be saying.
Another sort there bee, that will
10Be talking of the Fayries still,
Nor neuer can they have their fill,
As they were wedded to them;
No Tales of them their thirst can slake,
So much delight therein they take,
And some strange thing they fame would make,
Knew they the way to doe them.
Then since no Muse hath bin so bold,
Or of the Later, or the ould,
Those Eluish secrets to vnfold,
20Which lye from others reading,
My actiue Muse to light shall bring,
The court of that proud Fayry King,
And tell there, of the Reuelling,
Ioue prosper my proceeding.
And thou Nimphidia gentle Fay,
Which meeting me vpon the way,
These secrets didst to me bewray,
Which now I am in telling:
My pretty light fantastick mayde,
30I here inuoke thee to my ayde,
That I may speake what thou hast sayd,
In numbers smoothly swelling.
This Pallace standeth in the Ayre,
By Nigromancie placed there,
That it no Tempests needs to feare,
Which way so ere it blow it.
And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone,
Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone,
And thence the Fayrie can as soone
40Passe to the earth below it.