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Invocation to the fairies

Fays and fairies haste away!
This is Harriet's holiday:
Bring the lyre, and bring the lute,
Bring the sweetly-breathing flute;
Wreaths of cowslips hither bring,
All the honours of the spring;
Adorn the grot with all that's gai,
Fays and fairies haste away
Bring the vine to Bacchus dear,
Bring the purple lilac here,
Festoons of roses, sweetest flower,
The yellow primrose of the bower,
Blue-ey'd violets wet with dew,
Bring the clustering woodbine too
Bring the baskets made of rush,
The cherry with it's ripen'd blush,
The downy peach, so soft so fair,
The luscious grape, the mellow pear:
These to Harriet hither bring,
And sweetly in return she'll sing
Be the brilliant grotto scene
The palace of the Fairy Queen
Form the sprightly circling dance,
Fairies here your steps advance;
To harp's soft dulcet sound
Let your footsteps lightly bound
Unveil your forms to mortal eye;
Let Harriet view your revelry

~F.D. Browne-Hemans~

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