Chirp no Cricket here,
Flit no wanton breeze,
But from out yon trees,
Gushing full and clear,
Philomel, be thy sweet lay
On the night-air, borne away!
Enter Oberon and Titania (soft music attending them).
Chorus of Fairies.
To our Fairy-dance
See the Queen advance,
All in rosy garlands dight
Floating hither in the soft moonlight:
High is her command,
In the Spirit-land;
For her wise and gentle sway,
We small Elves do love, and cheerfully obey.—
TITANIA.
Trace now the ruddy circle, in whose bound
