Songs

OF

The Piries.

the Pixies' Parlour.

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-cover'd hill, is an excavation, called 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 conducted a party of young Ladies, during the summer months of the year 1793; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was proclaimed the Fairy Queen: On which occasion, and at which time, the following Irregular Ode was written.

SONGS

OF

THE PIXIES.

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

Builds it's nest and warbles well;

Here the blackbird strains his throat :

Welcome, LADIES! to our cell.