Poems, and fancies written by the Right Honourable, the Lady Margaret Newcastle.

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Poems, and fancies written by the Right Honourable, the Lady Margaret Newcastle.
Newcastle, Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of, 1624?-1674.
London :: Printed by T.R. for J. Martin, and J. Allestrye,

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"Poems, and fancies written by the Right Honourable, the Lady Margaret Newcastle." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A53061.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed July 22, 2024.


The Pastime of the Queen of Fairies, when she comes upon the Earth out of the Center.

THis lovely sweet, and beauteous Fairy Queen, Begins to rise, when Vespers star is seen. For she is kin unto the god of Night, So to Diana, and the stars so bright. And so to all the rest in some degrees, Yet not so neer relation as to these. As for Apollo, she disclaims him quite, And swears she nere will come within his light. For they fell out about some foolish toy, Where ever since in him she takes no joy. She faith, he alwayes doth more harm then good, If that his malice were true understood. For he brings dearths by parching up the ground, And sucks up waters, that none can be found. He makes poor man in feav'rish plagues to lye, His arrows hot, both man and beast do dye. So that to him she never wil come neare, But hates to see, when that his beams appear. This makes the Cock her notice give, they say, That when he rises, she may goe her way. And makes the Owle her favorite to be,

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Because Apollo's face she hates to see. Owles sleep all day, yet hollow in the night, Make acclamations that they'r out of sight. So doth the Glow-worm all day hide her head, But lights her taper-taile, when hee's a bed, To wait upon the fairest Fairy Queen, Whilst she is sporting on the meady green. Her pastime onely is when she's on earth, To pinch the Sluts, which make Hobgoblin mirth: Or changes children while the nurses sleep, Making the father rich, whose child they keep. This Hobgoblin is the Queen of Fairies fool, Turning himselfe to Horse, Cow, Tree, or Stool; Or any thing to crosse by harmlesse play, As leading Travellers out of their way, Or kick downe Payls of Milk, cause Cheese not turn, Or hinder Butter's coming in the Churne: Which makes the Farmers wife to scold, and fret, That she the Cheese, and Butter cannot get. Then holds he up the Hens Rumps, as they say, Because their Eggs too soon they should not lay. The good Wife sad, squats down upon a chaire, Not at all thinking it was Hob the Faire: Where frowning sits; then Hob gives her the slip, And downe she falls, whereby she hurts her hip. And many prankes, which Hob playes on our stage, With his companion Tom Thumb, the Queenes Page; Who doth like peice of fat in pudding lye, There almost chokes the Eater, going awry. And when he's down, the Guts, their wind blowes out, Putting the standers by into a rout. Thus shames the Eater with a foule disgrace, That never after dare he shew his face. Besides, in many places puts himselfe, As Baggs, Budgets, being a little Elfe, To make his bearers start away with feare, To thinke that any thing alive is there. In this, the Queen of Fairies takes delight, In summers even, and in winters night;

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And when that She is weary of these playes, She takes her Coach, and goeth on her wayes, Unto her Paradise, the Center deep, Which is the Store-house rich of Nature sweet.
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