Dienstag, 15. Juni 2010

I serve the fairy queen

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Over hill, over pale
Through flood, through fire
I do wander every where
Swifter than the moon's sphere

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And I serve the fairy queen
to dew her orbs upon the green.

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The cowlips tall her pensioners be
In their gold coasts spots you see
Those be rubies, fairy favours
In those freckles live their savours

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I must go and seek some dewdrops here
And hang a pearl in every cowlip's ear

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Farewell, thou lob of spirits
I'll be gone.

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Shakespeare: A Midsummer Night's Dream

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