FRAGMENT: WINE OF THE FAIRIES.

By Percy Bysshe Shelley

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!