Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gapping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church - way paths to glide. And we fairies, that to run By the triple Hecate`s team From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic; not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house: I am sent with broom, before, To sweep the dust behind the door.
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