Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough briar, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moones sphere ; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green : The cowslips tall her pensioners... Love's labour's lost. Midsummer night's dream - Page 17 by William Shakespeare - 1788 Full view -
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