But in the argent dark of shadowèd earth,
What evil elves emerge to moil our mirth.
The Fen-Fires
Jack-o’-Lantern.Good-night t’ye, brother. What’s afoot?
How many dudheads have ye got?
Will-o’-the-Wisp.A many million is my quot.
Jack.What is your fire?
Will. Jack.What is your fire?I brew it hot
From politicians’ reek and rot,
Who call me Fairy Lot-for-Lot.