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202 MINSTRELSY OF
But Janet'Stood, with eager wish,
Her lover to embrace.
Betwixt the hours of twelve and one,
A north wind tore the bent ;
And straight she heard strange elritch sounds
Upon that wind which went.
About the dead hour o' the night,
She heard the bridles ring ;
And Janet was as glad o' that,
As any earthly thing !
Their oaten pipes blew wondrous shrill,
The hemlock small blew clear ;
And louder notes from hemlock large,
And bog-reed struck the ear ;
But solemn sounds, or sober thoughts,
The Fairies cannot bear.
They sing, inspired with love and joy,
Like sky-larks in the air ;
Of solid sense, or thought that's grave.
You'll find no ti'aces there.

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