Hath thou seen Queen Mab to-day?
in that bitter carriage, with her dreams
         Forwarding to the cursèd fray
with unhallowed thoughts, or so ’twould seem
         And creeping under willow’s bough
’pon rotting leaves and sick’ning scents
         Of fretting unborn babes and now
she peddles with a marred intent
         With foreign faeries in the leaves
who show broken wares and scattered souls
         They hide amongst the dripping reeds
while dying rays reflect on shoals
         And here, on the last hour of light
mab cursed the world into the night.