A moment and its lustre fell, But ere it met the billow blue, He caught within his crimson bell, A droplet of its sparkling dew - Joy to thee, Fay! thy task is done, Thy wings are pure, for the gem is won - Cheerly ply thy dripping oar, And haste away to the elfin shore.英文原著 · 《The Culprit Fay and Other Poems》