Part 68

Another chorus now succeeds, Far off the drums are beating. Be still! The bitterns 'mong the reeds Their one note are repeating.

DANCING MASTER

Each twirls about and never stops, And as he can he fareth. The crooked leaps, the clumsy hops, Nor for appearance careth.

FIDDLER

To take each other's life, I trow, Would cordially delight them! As Orpheus' lyre the beasts, so now The bagpipe doth unite them.

DOGMATIST

My views, in spite of doubt and sneer, I hold with stout persistence, Inferring from the devils here, The evil one's existence.

IDEALIST

My every sense rules Phantasy With sway quite too potential; Sure I'm demented if the I Alone is the essential.

REALIST

This entity's a dreadful bore, And cannot choose but vex me; The ground beneath me ne'er before Thus totter'd to perplex me.

SUPERNATURALIST

Well pleased assembled here I view Of spirits this profusion; From devils, touching angels too, I gather some conclusion.

SCEPTIC

The ignis fatuus they track out, And think they're near the treasure, Devil alliterates with doubt, Here I abide with pleasure.

LEADER OF THE BAND

Frog and cricket in the mosses,-- Confound your gasconading! Nose of fly and gnat's proboscis;-- Most tuneful serenading!

THE KNOWING ONES

Sans-souci, so this host we greet, Their jovial humour showing; There's now no walking on our feet, So on our heads we're going.

THE AWKWARD ONES

In seasons past we snatch'd, 'tis true, Some tit-bits by our cunning; Our shoes, alas, are now danced through, On our bare soles we're running.

WILL-O'-THE-WISPS

From marshy bogs we sprang to light, Yet here behold us dancing; The gayest gallants of the night, In glitt'ring rows advancing.

SHOOTING STAR

With rapid motion from on high, I shot in starry splendour; Now prostrate on the grass I lie;-- Who aid will kindly render?

THE MASSIVE ONES

Room! wheel round! They're coming lo! Down sink the bending grasses. Though spirits, yet their limbs, we know, Are huge substantial masses.

PUCK