ÆGLE AND THE ELF

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

STEREOTYPERS and PRINTERS

Ægle and the Elf.

A FANTASY.

BY
M. B. M. TOLAND,
AUTHOR OF “SIR RAE,” “IRIS,” “ONTI ORA,” “THE INCA PRINCESS,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED
WITH PHOTOGRAVURES OF ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY EMINENT ARTISTS.

PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
London: 10 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.
1887.

Copyright, 1886, by J. B. Lippincott Company.

DESIGNS.

LIST OF DRAWINGS

ÆGLE

The moonbeams were lighting the watery way,

That rimpled

And dimpled,—

The Nymphs were at play;

’Neath willows whose branches were kissing the stream

So lightly

And brightly,

It almost would seem

The lovely young Naiads were swaying the tree,

To lash it

And dash it,

In frolicking glee.

I rested my oars on my frail little boat,

Still gliding,

Dividing

The cresses afloat.

When lo! a fair vision arose on the tide;

A maiden

All laden

With lilies to hide

Her love-dimpled blushes from glances too bold;

A daughter

Of water,

Like Venus of old.

She stood for one moment admiring herself;

Uprising,

Surprising

A young woodland Elf,

Who left his own forest in mirth-loving glee,

To ramble

And gambol

In wild ecstasy.

On a tree-top he sat, with a quizzical face,

Ne’er tiring

Admiring

The beauty and grace

Of Ægle, who saw, mirrored close by her side,

The young Elf

By herself

Impressed on the tide.

She instantly sank amid ripples of light,

That, laving,

Seemed waving

Her form from his sight.

Three lovely young Naiads arose on the tide,

While swimming

Were trimming

And drawing aside

A budding branch, cedar, that shaded so well,

Reposing,

And closing

The Nymph’s caverned cell.

So charming she looked in her fairy-queen pride,

And kindly,

He blindly

Plunged into the tide.

The water was instantly lashed into spray;

Half drowning,

And frowning,

The Elf got away.

The Naiads had vanished like flashes of light;

No daughter

Of water

Condoled his sad plight.

But ripples of laughter were heard everywhere,

With singing

And ringing

Of fairy-bells there.

The echoes trilled back from the grottos down deep,

“Young Elfin,

Thyself in

Thy element keep!”

Then home to his wild-wood returned the young Elf

Most gladly,

Though madly,

While drying himself.

He plumed his gay cap on his queer little head,

All dripping

And skipping

He o’er the bank sped.

I suddenly woke from my nap by the stream,

Astounded!

Confounded!

Behold! ’Twas a dream.