Playful Poems
there hath been none So Bedlam as our Oberon, Of which I dare assure ye.

And first encountering with a Wasp, He in his arms the fly doth clasp As though his breath he forth would grasp, Him for Pigwiggin taking: “Where is my wife, thou rogue?” quoth be; “Pigwiggin, she is come to thee; Restore her, or thou diest by me!”  Whereat the poor Wasp quaking

Cries, “Oberon, great Fairy King, Content thee, I am no such thing: I am a Wasp, behold my sting!”  At which the Fairy started; When soon away the Wasp doth go, Poor wretch, was never frighted so; He thought his wings were much too slow, O’erjoyed they so were parted.

He next upon a Glow-worm light, You must suppose it now was night, Which, for her hinder part was bright, He took to be a devil, And furiously doth her assail For carrying fire in her tail; He thrashed her rough coat with his flail; The mad King feared no evil.

“Oh!” quoth the Glow-worm, “hold thy hand, Thou puissant King of Fairy-land! Thy mighty strokes who may withstand? Hold, or of life despair I!” Together then herself doth roll, And tumbling down into a hole She seemed as black as any coal; Which vext away the Fairy.

From thence he ran into a hive: Amongst the bees he letteth drive, And down their combs begins to rive, All likely to have spoiléd, Which with their wax his face besmeared, And with their honey daubed his beard: It would have made a man afeared To see how he was moiléd.

A new adventure him betides; He met an Ant, which he bestrides, And post thereon away he rides, Which with his haste doth stumble; And came full over on her snout, Her heels so threw the dirt about, For she by no means could get out, But over him doth tumble.

And being in this piteous case, And all be-slurréd head and face, On runs he in this wild-goose chase, As here and there he rambles; Half blind, against a mole-hill hit, And for a mountain taking it, For all he was out of his wit Yet to the top he scrambles.

And being gotten to the top, Yet there himself he could not stop, But down on th’ other side doth chop, And to the foot came rumbling; So that the grubs, therein that bred, Hearing such turmoil over head, Thought surely they had all been dead; So fearful was the jumbling.

And falling down into a lake, Which him up to the neck doth take, His fury somewhat it doth slake; He calleth for a ferry; Where you may 
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