The Dairy-House

A spreading hawthorn shades the seat

Where I have fix'd my cool retreat;

And when the spring, with sunny show'rs,

Expands the leaves, and paints the flow'rs,

A thousands shrubs around it bloom,

And fill the air with wild perfume;

The light winds through the branches sigh,

And limpid rills run tinkling by.

There, by the twilight dimly seen,

The fairies dance upon the green,

And as they glide in airy ring,

The beetle plies his drowsy wing;

And watching'till the day retires,

The glow worm lights her elfin fires;

While Mab, who guards my milky store,

Her cream bowl finds before the door.

The grateful Fay! she is so kind

No caterpillar there you find,

No creeping thing, nor wasp, nor fly

The lattic'd windows dare come night;

No long legg'd Spinner nightly weaves

Her flimsy web beneath the eaves;

But clean and neat, as by a charm,

The fairies keep my dairy farm.