The night is dewy as a maiden’s mouth, The skies are bright as are a maiden’s eyes, Soft as a maiden’s breath the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park; And hither hastening, like rakes that roam, With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fireflies come stagg’ring down the dark.
Over hill, over dale - fromA Midsummer Night’s Dreamby William Shakespeare
A wood near Athens. A Fairy speaks.
Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green: The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dew-drops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits: I’ll be gone; Our queen and all her elves come here anon.
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