Anna Grenville, Countess Temple, appointed Poet Laureate to the King of the Fairies

By these presents, be it known
To all who bend before our throne,
Fays and Fairies, Elves and Sprites,
Beauteous Dames and gallant Knights,
That We, Oberon the Grand,
Emperor of Fairy-Land,
King of Moonshine, Prince of Dreams,
Lord of Aganippe's streams,
Baron of the Dimpled Isles
That lie in pretty maiden's smiles,
Arch-Treasurer of all the Graces
Dispers'd through fifty lovely faces,
Sovereign of the Slipper's Order
With all the rites thereon that border,
Defender of the Sylphic Faith,
Declare—and thus your Monarch saith:

Whereas there is a noble Dame,
Whom mortals Countess Temple name,
To whom Ourself did erst impart
The choicest secrets of our art,
Taught her to tune th' harmonious line
To our own melody divine,
Taught her the graceful negligence
Which, scorning art and veiling sense,
Achieves that conquest o'er the heart
Sense seldom gains, and never art!

This lady, 'tis Our Royal Will
Our Laureate's vacant seat should fill;
A chaplet of immortal bays
Shall crown her brows, and guard her lays;
Of nectar-sack an acorn-cup
Be, at her board, each year fill'd up;
And as each quarter feast comes round,
A silver penny shall be found
Within the compass of her shoe!
And so we bid you all adieu.

Given at our Palace of Cowslip Castle, the shortest night of the year. Oberon.