In th' olde dayes of the king Arthur
Of which that Britons speaken great honour,
All was this land fulfilled of faerie;
The Elf-queen, with her jolly company,
Danced full oft in many a greene mead;
This was the old opinion as I read:
I speak of many hundred years ago;
But now can no man see none elves mo,
For now the greate charity and prayers
Of limitours[194] and other holy freres,
That searchen every land and every stream,
As thick as motes in the sunne-beam,
Blessing halles, chambers, kitchenes, bowers,
Cities, boroughs, castles, highe towers,
Thorpes, barnes, shepens,[195] dairies,
This maketh that there be no faeries:
For there as wont to walken was an elf,
There walketh now the limitour himself,
In undermeles[196] and in morwenings,
And saith his matins and his holy things,
As he goeth in his limitation,[197]
Women may go now safely up and down,
In every bush, and under every tree;
There is none other incubus but he.
[194] Begging friars.
[195] Stables.
[196] Afternoons.
[197] Begging district.