Where the murmuring waters flow,
And the zephyrs of the night,
Bending to the flowers that grow,
Basking in the silver sheen,
With their voices soft and low,
Sing about the rings of green
Which the Fairies’ twinkling feet,
In their nightly revels, beat.
Old William Browne depicts a Fairy trysting-place as being in proximity to one of their sylvan haunts, and moreover gives us an insight into the proceedings of the Fays and their queen at one of their meetings. He says:—
“Near to this wood there lay a pleasant meade