BLOOMS OF THE BERRYY 9



                   V.
The whistles tagged their horses' manes
  All crystal clear; on these a wind
Forever played, and waked the plains
      Before, behind,

                  VI.
These flute-notes and the Fairy song
  Took the dim holts with many a qualm,
And eke their silver bridles rung
      A far-off psalm.

                  VII.
All rid upon pale ouphen steeds
  With flying tails, uncouthly seen;
Each wore a scarf athwart his weeds
      Of freshest green.

                  VIII.
And aye a beam of silver light
  Fairer than moonshine danced aboon,
And shook their locks-a glimmering white
      Not of the moon.

                  Ix.
Small were they that the hare-bell's blue
  Had helmeted each tiny head;
Save one damsel, who, tall as two,
      The Faeries led.



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