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Somewhere in magic mystery,
Beyond the hills,
Are diamond dells,
Encircled by a silver sea,
Whose wavelets croon melodiously,
With intonation deep.


By day a mellow radiance spreads,
And rosy drifts
The wood and cliffs
A monstrous moon illumes the night,
And sheds a tide of purple light
Full on the drowsy world.


And o'er the daisy-dappled downs
And glimmering dells
A chorus swells
And dies.
And in the sheeny, scented air
The sound of voices hymning clear
Enraptured harmonies.


Behold! there trips an elfin troop,
And fairies come
From out the gloom
To dance
Gay measures 'round their sovereign's throne,
While sprites assemble one by one
Along the green expanse.


Now here, now yon, they dart and run;
They slip and slide,
They glint and glide
Through isles
With ropes of roses garlanded,
Through verdant vale and starry mead,
Bright with Titania's smiles.


A pallor deepens in the East,
A scarlet splash,
A sunlit flash
Across the lawn.
The aegis of the burnished day,
The sun, resumes its wonted sway--
And lo--the elves are gone!