Shuttle of the sunburnt grass, Fifer in the dun cuirass, Fifing shrilly in the morn, Shrilly still at eve unworn; Now to rear, now in the van, Gayest of the elfin clan: Though I watch their rustling flight, I can never guess aright Where their lodging-places are; 'Mid some daisy's golden star, Or beneath a roofing leaf, Or in fringes of a sheaf, Tenanted as soon as bound! Loud thy reveille doth sound, When the earth is laid asleep, And her dreams are passing deep, On mid-August afternoons; And through all the harvest moons, Nights brimmed up with honeyed peace, Thy gainsaying doth not cease. When the frost comes, thou art dead; We along the stubble tread, On blue, frozen morns, and note No least murmur is afloat: Wondrous still our fields are then, Fifer of the elfin men! EDITH M. THOMAS. THE GOLDEN GRASSHOPPER CHARLES LAMB It chanced upon a time that while the fairies were looking for cowslips in the meads, while yet the dew was hanging on the buds like beads, they found a babe left in its swathing-clothes—a little, sorrowful, deserted thing. It was a pity to see the abandoned little orphan left in that way. How the cold dew kept wetting its childish coats; and its little hair, like gossamer, how it was bedabbled! Its pouting mouth, unknowing how to speak, lay half-opened like a rose-lipped shell; and its cheek was softer than any peach, upon which the tears, for very roundness, could not long dwell, but fell off in clearness like pearls—some on the grass, and some on his little hand; and some haply wandered to the little dimpled well under his mouth. Pity it was, too, to see how the burning sun had scorched its helpless limbs; for it lay without shade or shelter, for foul weather or fair. So, having compassion on its sad plight, the fairies turned themselves into grasshoppers and swarmed about the babe, making such shrill cries as that pretty little chirping creature makes in its mirth, till, with their noise, they attracted the attention of a passing rustic, a tender-hearted kind who, wondering at their small but loud concert, strayed aside curiously, and found the babe where it lay in the remote grass, and, taking it up, wrapped it in his russet coat, and bore it to his cottage, where his wife kindly nurtured it till it grew up a goodly personage.