Three Songs

Come unto these yellow sands,
   And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,--
   The wild waves whist--
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
   Hark, hark!
      Bow, wow,
   The watch-dogs bark:
      Bow, wow.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!

                         --from The Tempest


   

Tell me where is Fancy bred,
   Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourishèd?
   Reply, reply.
It is engender'd in the eyes;
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
   Let us all ring Fancy's knell:
   I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell!
All. Ding, dong, bell!

                         --from The Merchant of Venice


   

Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
   In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily:
   Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
   Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

                         -from The Tempest