But he left an arch of silver bright,
The rainbow of the moony main.
It was a strange and lovely sight
To see the puny goblin there;
He seemed an angel form of light,
With azure wing and sunny hair,
Throned on a cloud of purple fair,
Circled with blue and edged with white,
And sitting, at the fall of even,
Beneath the bow of summer heaven.

A moment, and its lustre fell;
But ere it met the billow blue
He caught within his crimson bell
A droplet of its sparkling dew!-
Joy to thee, fay! thy task is done,
Thy wings are pure, for the gem is won,-
Cheerly ply thy dripping oar,

And haste away to the elfin shore.

He turns, and lo! on either side

The ripples on his path divide;

And the track o'er which his boat must pass
Is smooth as a sheet of polished glass.
Around, their limbs the sea-nymphs lave,
With snowy arms half swelling out,
While on the glossed and gleamy wave
Their sea-green ringlets loosely float.
They swim around with smile and song;
They press the bark with pearly hand,
And gently urge her course along
Toward the beach of speckled sand,
And, as he lightly leaped to land,

They bade adieu with nod and bow;
Then gayly kissed each little hand,
And dropped in the crystal deep below.

A moment stayed the fairy there;

He kissed the beach and breathed a prayer;
Then spread his wings of gilded blue,
And on to the elfin court he flew.

As ever ye saw a bubble rise,

And shine with a thousand changing dyes,
Till, lessening far, through ether driven,
It mingles with the hues of heaven;
As, at the glimpse of morning pale,
The lance-fly spreads his silken sail,
And gleams with blendings soft and bright
Till lost in the shades of fading night,—
So rose from earth the lovely fay;
So vanished, far in heaven away!

Up, fairy! quit thy chickweed bower,
The cricket has called the second hour;
Twice again, and the lark will rise
To kiss the streaking of the skies,—

Up! thy charmed armor don,

Thou 'It need it ere the night be gone.

He put his acorn helmet on;

It was plumed of the silk of the thistle-down;
The corselet plate that guarded his breast

Was once the wild bee's golden vest;
His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes,
Was formed of the wings of butterflies;
His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen,
Studs of gold on a ground of green;

And the quivering lance which he brandished bright
Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
Swift he bestrode his firefly steed;

He bared his blade of the bent-grass blue;

He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed,

And away like a glance of thought he flew
To skim the heavens, and follow far
The fiery trail of the rocket-star.

The moth-fly, as he shot in air,

Crept under the leaf, and hid her there;
The katydid forgot its lay,

The prowling gnat fled fast away,

The fell mosquito checked his drone
And folded his wings till the fay was gone,
And the wily beetle dropped his head,
And fell on the ground as if he were dead;
They crouched them close in the darksome shade,
They quaked all o'er with awe and fear,

For they had felt the blue-bent blade,

And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear.

Many a time, on a summer's night,

When the sky was clear, and the moon was bright,
They had been roused from the haunted ground
By the yelp and bay of the fairy hound;

They had heard the tiny bugle-horn,

They had heard the twang of the maize-silk string,
When the vine-twig bows were tightly drawn,
And the needle-shaft through air was borne,
Feathered with down of the hum-bird's wing.
And now they deemed the courier ouphe

Some hunter-sprite of the elfin ground,

And they watched till they saw him mount the roof That canopies the world around;

Then glad they left their covert lair,
And freaked about in the midnight air.

Up to the vaulted firmament
His path the firefly courser bent,
And at every gallop on the wind
He flung a glittering spark behind;
He flies like a feather in the blast

Till the first light cloud in heaven is past.
But the shapes of air have begun their work,
And a drizzly mist is round him cast;

He cannot see through the mantle murk;
He shivers with cold, but he urges fast;

Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade,
He lashes his steed, and spurs amain,-
For shadowy hands have twitched the rein,
And flame-shot tongues around him played,
And near him many a fiendish eye
Glared with a fell malignity,

And yells of rage, and shrieks of fear,
Came screaming on his startled ear.

His wings are wet around his breast,
The plume hangs dripping from his crest,

His eyes are blurred with the lightning's glare,
And his ears are stunned with the thunder's blare.
But he gave a shout and his blade he drew,
He thrust before and he struck behind,
Till he pierced their cloudy bodies through,
And gashed their shadowy limbs of wind:
Howling the misty spectres flew,

They rend the air with frightful cries;
For he has gained the welkin blue,

And the land of clouds beneath him lies.

Up to the cope careering swift,
In breathless motion fast,
Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift,
Or the sea-roc rides the blast,
The sapphire sheet of eve is shot,
The sphered moon is past,
The earth but seems a tiny blot
On a sheet of azure cast.

O, it was sweet, in the clear moonlight,
To tread the starry plain of even !
To meet the thousand eyes of night,

And feel the cooling breath of heaven!

But the elfin made no stop or stay

Till he came to the bank of the Milky Way;

Then he checked his courser's foot,

And watched for the glimpse of the planet-shoot.

Sudden along the snowy tide

That swelled to meet their footsteps' fall,
The sylphs of heaven were seen to glide,
Attired in sunset's crimson pall;
Around the fay they weave the dance,
They skip before him on the plain,
And one has taken his wasp-sting lance,
And one upholds his bridle-rein;
With warblings wild they lead him on
To where, through clouds of amber seen,
Studded with stars, resplendent shone
The palace of the sylphid queen.
Its spiral columns, gleaming bright,
Were streamers of the northern light;
Its curtain's light and lovely flush
Was of the morning's rosy blush;