Pigwiggen[4] was this Fairy Knight, One wondrous gracious in the sight Of fair Queen Mab, which day and night He amorously observed; Which made King Oberon suspect His service took too good effect, His sauciness and often checkt, And could have wished him starved[5]. Pigwiggen gladly would commend Some token to Queen Mab to send, If sea or land him aught could lend Were worthy of her wearing; At length this lover doth devise A bracelet made of emmets' eyes, A thing he thought that she would prize, No whit her state impairing. And to the Queen a letter writes, Which he most curiously indites, Conjuring her by all the rites Of love, she would be pleased To meet him, her true servant, where They might, without suspect or fear, Themselves to one another clear And have their poor hearts eased. "At midnight the appointed hour, And for the Queen a fitting bower," Quoth he, "is that fair cowslip flower On Hipcut hill that bloweth; In all your train there's not a fay That ever went to gather may But she hath made it, in her way; The tallest there that groweth." When by Tom Thumb, a Fairy Page, He sent it, and doth him engage By promise of a mighty wage It secretly to carry; Which done, the Queen her maids doth call, And bids them to be ready all: She would go see her summer hall, She could no longer tarry. Her chariot ready straight is made, Each thing therein is fitting laid, That she by nothing might be stayed, For naught must be her letting; Four nimble gnats the horses were, Their harnesses of gossamere, Fly Cranion her charioteer Upon the coach-box getting. Her chariot of a snail's fine shell, Which for the colours did excel, The fair Queen Mab becoming well, So lively was the limning; The seat the soft wool of the bee, The cover, gallantly to see, The wing of a pied butterflee; I trow 'twas simple trimming. The wheels composed of crickets' bones, And daintily made for the nonce; For fear of rattling on the stones With thistle-down they shod it; For all her maidens much did fear If Oberon had chanced to hear That Mab his Queen should have been there, He would not have abode it. She mounts her chariot with a trice, Nor would she stay for no advice, Until her maids that were so nice To wait on her were fitted; But ran herself away alone, Which when they heard, there was not one But hasted after to be gone, As she had been diswitted. Hop and Mop and Drop so clear, Pip and Trip and Skip that were To Mab, their sovereign, ever dear, Her special maids of honour; Fib and Tib and Pink and Pin, Tick and Quick and Jill and Jin, Tit and Nit and Wap and Win, The train that wait upon her.