SCENE--NETLEY ABBEY. <br /> <br />There was a morrice on the moonlight plain, <br />And music echoed in the woody glade, <br />For fay-like forms, as of Titania's train, <br />Upon a summer eve, beneath the shade <br />Of Netley's ivied ruins, to the sound <br />Of sprightly minstrelsy did beat the ground:-- <br />Come, take hands! and lightly move, <br />While our boat, in yonder cove, <br />Rests upon the darkening sea; <br />Come, take hands, and follow me! <br /> <br />Netley! thy dim and desolated fane <br />Hath heard, perhaps, the spirits of the night <br />Shrieking, at times, amid the wind and rain; <br />Or haply, when the full-orbed moon shone bright, <br />Thy glimmering aisles have echoed to the song <br />Of fairy Mab, who led her shadowy masque along. <br />Now, as to the sprightly sound <br />Of moonlight minstrelsy we beat the ground; <br />From the pale nooks, in accent clear, <br />Now, methinks, her voice I hear, <br />Sounding o'er the darksome sea; <br />Come, take hands, and follow me! <br /> <br />Here, beneath the solemn wood, <br />When faintly-blue is all the sky, <br />And the moon is still on high, <br />To the murmurs of the flood, <br />To the glimpses of the night, <br />We perform our airy rite;-- <br />Care and pain to us unknown, <br />To the darkening seas are flown. <br /> <br />Hear no more life's fretful noise, <br />Heed not here pale Envy's sting, <br />Far from life's distempered joys; <br />To the waters murmuring, <br />To the shadows of the sky, <br />To the moon that rides on high, <br />To the glimpses of the night, <br />We perform our airy rite, <br />While care and pain, to us unknown, <br />To the darkening seas are flown.<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fairy-sketch/
