XCIV. Then Saturn thus:- shaking his crooked blade XCV. "Lo! this most awful handle of my scythe And laid each lusty leaper in the dew; So thou shalt fare and every jovial crew!" XCVI. Here he lets go the struggling imp, to clutch To make the stern Shade merciful, — when lo! XCVII. For, just at need, a timely Apparition Steps in between, to bear the awful brunt ; To marvel at this comer, brave and blunt, That dares Time's irresistible affront, Whose strokes have scarr'd even the gods of old; — Whereas this seem'd a mortal, at mere hunt For coneys, lighted by the moonshine cold, Or stalker of stray deer, stealthy and bold. E XCVIII. Who, turning to the small assembled fays, Laid like a dream upon the green earth's lap ; XCIX. "Oh, these be Fancy's revellers by night! C. "These be the pretty genii of the flow'rs, Daintily fed with honey and pure dew The darling puppets of romance's view; Fairies, and sprites, and goblin elves we call them, No harm they act, neither shall harm befall them, CI. O what a cry was Saturn's then! it made Or dance their roundelays on flow'ry banks? Long must they dance before they earn my thanks, – So step aside, to some far safer spot, Whilst with my hungry scythe I mow their ranks, And leave them in the sun, like weeds, to rot, And with the next day's sun to be forgot." CII. Anon, he raised afresh his weapon keen; But still the gracious Shade disarm'd his aim, And made his sere arm powerless and tame. Of hoary Saturn in that grand defeat! But I must tell, how here Titania came His kindly succour, in sad tones, but sweet. CIII. Saying, "Thou seest a wretched queen before thee, The fading power of a failing land, Who for her kingdom kneeleth to implore thee, Now menac'd by this tyrant's spoiling hand; No one but thee can hopefully withstand That crooked blade, he longeth so to lift. I pray thee blind him with his own vile sand, Or prune his eagle wings that are so swift. |