Some had lain in a scarp of the rock,
By glittering ising-stars inlaid,
And some had opened the ‘Four-o’-Clock,’
And stolen within its purple shade;
And now they throng the moonlight glade,
Above, below,—on every side,
Their little minim forms arrayed,
In the tricksy pomp of Fairy pride.”—Dr. Drake’s ‘Culprit Fay.’
Like the Witches, Fairies dearly love to ride to the trysting-place on an aerial steed. A straw, a blade of Grass, a Fern, a Rush, or a Cabbage-stalk, alike serve the purpose of the little people. Mounted on such simple steeds, each joyous Elf sings—
“Now I go, now I fly,