When Mab (her own and palfrey's wings
Of gauzy blue outspread) the rings
Of wistful pixies leapt into,
Sitting erect her horse so true,
In silvery laughter broke each fay,
Like silvery tinkling brook in May.
Waving her saffron brand, she said:
'Fairies! your future home and bed!'
And pointed up the flower-lit tree,—
Thither they swarmed as swarms the bee!
In turn each bole and fronded roof
Was trod by Elf-queen palfrey's hoof,
Till fays who bore the flame-wood lamp,
Swung in their peaceful airy camp.
That was a chestnut grove they found!
And as the sunny spring comes round,
Queen Mab, when shines the silver moon,
And elfin bugles blow in tune,
Still rides high up each chestnut tree,
That fays may know where safe they'll be,