"
And there is another picture of the same, in a poem ascribed to Ben
Jonson.
"Bywells and rills in meadows green,
We nightly dance our heyday guise,
And to our fairy king and queen
We chant our moonlight minstrelsies."
Indeed, it seems to me, that the older British poets, with that true
feeling for nature which distinguishes them, have closely adhered to
the simple and familiar imagery which they found in these popular
superstitions; and have thus given to their fairy mythology those
continual allusions to the farm-house and the dairy, the green meadow
and the fountain-head, that fill our minds with the delightful
associations of rural life. It is curious to observe how the most
beautiful fictions have their origin among the rude and ignorant.
There is an indescribable charm about the illusions with which
chimerical ignorance once clothed every subject. These twilight views
of nature are often more captivating than any which are revealed by
the rays of enlightened philosophy. The most accomplished and poetical
minds, therefore, have been fain to search back into these accidental
conceptions of what are termed barbarous ages, and to draw from them
their finest imagery and, machinery.
Pages:
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438