Wine of the Fairies

I am drunk with the honey wine

Of the moon-unfolded eglantine,

Which fairies catch in hyacinth bowls.

The bats, the dormice, and the moles

Sleep in the walls or under the sward

Of the desolate castle yard;

And when 'tis spilt on the summer earth

      Or its fumes arise among the dew.

Their jocund dreams are full of mirth,

      They gibber their joy in sleep; for few

      Of the fairies bear those bowls so new!