But, fairest amongst all these descried, Stood in the middle edified The Palace where the King should bide, Well worthy a royal master; Of whitest graile its walls, or stained With delicate streaks like marble veined, From brook-bank quarries drawn, fine-grained, And pure as alabaster. I dare not say how many a line It towered aloft, nor words are mine To tell what fancies Faery-fine Did hall and chamber garnish, All carpeted with hand-spun moss, Or laurel-leaf tight strained across, That flooring made of smoother gloss Than e’er had wax or varnish. With couch, and stool, and cushion strown Of ash-bud’s silk or thistle’s down; Their rugs, fluffed fells of field-mice brown, For tiger’s skin and panther’s. Their curtains came from spider-looms, Their walls were hung with moths’ soft plumes; Much gold-dust glittered thro’ the rooms, From stamens brushed and anthers. A midge-flight from the Palace gate, (Scroll-work of skeleton beech-leaf) straight A Fane they reared that matched in state [Illustration: _Copyright 1894 by Macmillan & Co._] Famed Athens or Eleusis; Such beauty frieze and cornice lent, Entablature and pediment; In double row tall columns went Around it, as their use is. Each from one slab of rush’s pith Hewn, like majestic monolith, The architrave to prop, therewith The massy roof upholding. Indoors ’twas all adusk and chill; No Fay but felt a solemn thrill To pace its cloistered twilight still Mysterious glooms enfolding. Then from the brook with trenching spade Smooth dandelion tubes they laid, And hemlock pipes that bitter made The water thro’ them tasted; Hence, some fastidious Fays would go With acorn barrels to and fro, Till this the King forbade, lest so Their labour seem but wasted. Herein alone his fortune frowned: That in all Fayland was not found The fire-snake, lured from underground As even-dusk grows dimmer; This lacked, they did for lamp-posts choose Stout daisy-stems, and glowworms use, Chained there all night with knot and noose, To make a goodly glimmer. [Illustration: _Copyright by Macmillan & Co. 1894_] But who so fain as Oberon, That watched as every morn outshone His peerless city waxing on, While in its growth he gloried? Triumphant joy it gave the King To see each straw-plank scaffolding Pulled down piecemeal, as walls upspring, Wide-windowed, many-storied. And ever his stirring Elves amid He walked, and spied on all they did, And toilers praised, and idlers chid, With earnest speech and eager; Till, swift as blades in April-time Thro’ clod-cracks pricked, did skyward climb Roof crowding roof; whereof my rime Keeps but a record meagre.