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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 9

Prologue

Prologue.

Tell me a tale of fairies, that dwell by mountain meres,
Whose midnight song and dancing the lonely shepherd hears;
Mocking the weary fugitive, they whiz along the blast,
And to the guilty mind recall the image of the past.
For all the varied ways of men their idle frolic apes,
As lakes the forms of earth recast in unsubstantial shapes;
And oh! their light and airy forms our spirits more dismay,
Than does the avalanche's fall, or battle's dread array.
Oh! gentle shepherd, tell me if fairies you have seen,
Disporting on the lonely moor, or in the woodland green.