Elfin music: an anthology of English fairy poetry

In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they toss,
Like—almost anything,
Or a yellow albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same purpose as before—
Namely original: "videlicet" a tent—
Which I think is extravagant:
Its tiny particles atomies, however,
Dissever into a shower,
Of which those butterflies
Of earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again,
(Never contented things!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.

Prelude.