Are freest and fondest when all by themselves.
No thought had they that in after time,
The Muse would echo their deeds in rhyme;
So gayly doffing light stocking and shoe,
They tripped o'er the meadow all dappled in dew.
III.
I could tell, if I would, some right merry tales,
Of unslippered fairies that danced in the vales—
But the lovers of scandal I leave in the lurch—
And, beside, these elves don't belong to the church.