_First._ Some who came a-gathering dew, Tasting, sipping, fresh and new, Tumbled down, an idle crew, And there among the grass they lie, Under a toadstool; any fly May nip their foolish noses! _Second._ Soon We shall hear the Call of Noon. _First._ They cannot stir to any tune. No evening feast for them, be sure, But far-off sentry on the moor. Whence that sound of music?—hist! _Second._ Klingoling, chief lutanist, A hundred song-birds in a ring Is teaching all this morn to sing Together featly, so to fill The wedding-music,—loud and shrill, Soft and sweet, and high and low, Singled, mingled. He doth know The art to make a hundred heard Like one great surprising bird. _First._ Here comes Rosling! He’ll report All the doings of the Court. _Enter a Third Fairy._ Greeting, brothers! _First._ Greet thee well! Hast thou any news to tell? Our Princess dear, what shadow lies Drooping on her blissful eyes? Her suitors plague her?—is it so? _Third._ So in truth it is. But, lo! Who comes our way? Fairy, whence? Thou’rt a stranger. _Enter a Fourth Fairy._ No offence, I trust, altho’ my cap is blue, While yours are green as any leaf. Courteous fays! No spy or thief Is here, but one who longs to view Your famous Forest; chiefly there Your Princess fair, the praised in song Wheresoever fairies throng. Oft you see her? _Third._ Every day. _Fourth._ And is she lovely as they say? _Third._ Thou hast not seen her? Dost thou think Blue and golden, white and pink, Could paint the magic of her face? All common beauty’s highest place Being under hers how far!— _Fourth._ How far? _Third._ A glow-worm to the evening star. _First._ Scarce Klingoling could say so well! ’Tis true: so much she doth excel. Come, fairy, to our feast to-night, Two hours from sunset; then you may See the Forest-Realm’s Delight. _Fourth._ But were it not presumptuous? _First._ Nay, Thou art, I ween, a gentle fay, And sure of welcome. _Fourth._ It is said Her Highness shortly means to wed! _Third._ Next full moon, by fairy law, She must marry, no escape, Were it marsh-sprite, kobold, shape Creeping from earth-hole with horn and claw! _Fourth._ And hath she now a suitor?