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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: Look, how. the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines* of bright gold: There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold’st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
I am never merry, when I hear sweet music.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
A GOOD DEED COMPARED.
1 small flat dish, used in the administration of the rist.
NOTHING GOOD OUT OF SEASON.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended; and, I think, The nightingale, if, she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise, and true perfection! Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak’d!
This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick, It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
A FATHER'S AUTHORITY. TO you your father should be as a god; . One that compos’d your beauties; yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his
power To leave the figure, or disfigure it.
A RECLUSE LIFE. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice, You can endure the livery of a nun; For aye* to be in shady cloister mew'd, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood, To undergo such maiden pilgrimage: But earthlier happy is the rose distillid,
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.
TRUE LOVE EVER CROSSED. For aught that ever I could read Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood: Or else misgraffed, in respect of years; Or else it stood upon the choice of friends: Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentany* as a sound, Swist as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the colliedt night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say,—Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind:
I am that merry wanderer of the night, I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a silly foal: And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab;t And, when she drink, against her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And tailor cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe; And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there.
FAIRY JEALOUSY, AND THE EFFECTS OF IT. These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or meal, By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, Or on the beachy margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs; which falling in the land, Have every peltingt river made so proud, That they have overborne their continents; The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat; and the green corn * Sport.
| Wild apple. # Petty. Banks which contain them.
Hath rotted, ere his youth attained a beard:,
the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound: And through this distemperature, we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose; And on old Hyems chin, an icy crown, An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in a mockery, set: The spring, the summer, The childingt autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world, By their increase, I now knows not which is which.
LOVE IN IDLENESS. Thou remember'st Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such a dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To bear the sea-maid's music.
time I saw, (but thou could'st not,) Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm’d: a certain aim he took At à fair vestal, throned by the west; And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts; But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat’ry moon;
And the imperial votress passed on, * In maiden meditation fancy-free.
* A game played by boys.
§ Exempt from lore.