THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL

Farewell, rewards and fairies,

Good housewives now may say,

For now foul sluts in dairies

Do fare as well as they;

And though they sweep their hearths no less

Than maids were wont to do,

Yet who of late for cleanliness

Finds sixpence in her shoe?

Lament, lament, old abbeys,

The fairies' lost command,

They did but change priests' babies,

But some have changed your land;

And all your children stol'n from thence

Are now grown puritanes

Who live as changelings ever since

For love of your domains.

At morning and at evening both

You merry were and glad;

So little care of sleep and slot

These pretty ladies had;

When Tom came home from labor,

Or Ciss to milking rose,

Then merrily went their tabor

And nimbly went their toes.

Witness those rings and roundelays

Of theirs which yet remain

Were footed in Queen Mary's days

On many a grassy plain.

But since of late Elizabeth

And later James came in,

They never dance on any heath

As when the time had been.

By which we note the fairies

Were of the old profession,

Their songs were Ave Maries,

Their dances were procession;

But now alas, they all are dead

Or gone beyond the seas,

Or further from religion fled,

Or else they take their ease.

A tell-tale in their company

They never could endure;

And who kept not secretly

Their mirth, was punish'd sure.

It was a just and Christian deed

To pinch such black and blue;

O how the common wealth doth need

Such justices as you!

Now they have left our quarters

A register they have,

Who looketh to their charters,

A man both wise and grave;

A hundred of their merry pranks

By one that I could name

Are kept in store, conn twenty thanks

To William for the same.

I marvel who his cloak would turn

When Puck had led him round,

Or where those walking fires would burn,

Where Cureton would be found;

How Broker would appear to be,

For whom this age doth mourn;

But that their spirits live in thee,

In thee, old William Chourne.

To William Chourne of Strafford shire

Give laud and praises due,

Who ever meal can mend your cheer

With tales both old and true:

To William all give audience,

And pray ye for his noddle,

For all the fairies' evidence

Were lost, if that were addle.