Come follow, follow me,
You Faerie Elves that be,
Which circle on the green;
Come, follow Mab your Queen;
Hand in hand, let's dance around,
For this place is Faerie ground.
Upon a mushroom's head
Our table-cloth we spread;
A grain of rye or wheat,
Is manchet, which we eat;
Pearly drops of dew we drink
In acorn-cups fill'd to the brink.
The grasshopper, gnat, and fly
Serve for our minstrelsy;
Grace said, we dance a while,
And so the time beguile;
And if the moon doth hide Her head,
The glow-worm lights us home to bed. |
