[39:1] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. These lines were included in a letter from Coleridge to Mary Evans, dated Feb. 7, 1793. In 1796 and 1803 the following note was attached:--'How long will ye roll around me, blue-tumbling waters of Ocean. My dwelling is not always in caves; nor beneath the whistling tree. My [The] feast is spread in Torthoma's Hall. [My father delighted in my voice.] The youths beheld me in [the steps of] my loveliness. They blessed the dark-haired Nina-thomà.'--Berrathon [Ossian's _Poems_, 1819, ii. 484]. LINENOTES: Title] Effusion xxx. The Complaint, &c., 1796. [5] halls] Hall Letter, 1793. [8] white-bosom'd] dark-tressed Letter, 1793. [Between 8-9] By my friends, by my Lovers discarded, Like the flower of the Rock now I waste, That lifts her fair head unregarded, And scatters its leaves on the blast. Letter, 1793. [13] disturb'd] dispers'd Letter, 1793. SONGS OF THE PIXIES[40:1] The Pixies, in the superstition of Devonshire, are a race of beings invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small distance from a village in that county, half-way up a wood-covered hill, is an excavation called the Pixies' Parlour. The roots of old trees form its ceiling; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the author discovered his own cypher and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of their childhood. At the foot of the hill flows the river Otter. To this place the Author, during the summer months of the year 1793, conducted a party of young ladies; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was proclaimed the Faery Queen. On which occasion the following Irregular Ode was written. I Whom the untaught Shepherds call Pixies in their madrigal, Fancy's children, here we dwell: Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note 5 Builds its nest and warbles well; Here the blackbird strains his throat; Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. II When fades the moon to shadowy-pale, And scuds the cloud before the gale, 10 Ere the Morn all gem-bedight Hath streak'd the East with rosy light, We sip the furze-flower's fragrant dews Clad in robes of rainbow hues; Or sport amid the shooting gleams 15 To the tune of distant-tinkling teams, While lusty Labour scouting sorrow Bids the Dame a glad good-morrow, Who jogs the accustom'd road along, And paces cheery to her cheering song. 20 III