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STORIES FROM OLD ENGLISH POETRY.

dignified on his tiny box, as proud as any coachman could be of his gay turn-out. When her footman had helped the queen to alight, and she was ready to seek her couch, all respectfully retired, except only a few attendants who were to lull her to rest. Her bed was a hammock of web-lace, woven by a spider of great repute, who furnished all the royal laces. It was hung on the thorns of a sweet-brier, and swayed to and fro in the soft breezes, as she lay dreamily within. Then, daintily tucked up in rose leaves, her eyes shut together to the music of this fairy lullaby,—

You spotted snakes, with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
Newts and blind worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.

Chorus.

—Philomel, with melody

Sing in our sweet lullaby;
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;
So good-night, with lullaby.”

When her rosy lids had lightly closed, all the attending fairies went to their beds in flower-cups, and Oberon, with stealthy step, approached, and dropped some of the baleful juice upon her eyes.

Just at twilight, at the hour agreed on, Lysander met Hermia on the borders of the forest, He had planned to take his lady-love to the pro-