Now the wasted brands do glow; In remembrance of a shroud. That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his spite, In the churchway paths to glide; And we Fairies, that do run By the triple Hecat's team, Following darkness like a dream, SONG. IN MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. SIGH no more, ladies, sigh no more; One foot in sea, and one on shore, But let them go, Sing no more ditties, sing no mo SONG. IN THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. TELL me, where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished?— REPLY. It is engender'd in the eyes; ARIEL'S SONG. IN THE TEMPEST. WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I; There I couch when owls do cry; Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. SONG. FROM THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. "WHO is Silvia? what is she, "That all our swains commend her?" Holy, fair, and wise is she, The Heavens such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. "Is she kind as she is fair? "For beauty lives with kindness:" Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Sylvia let us sing, SONG. IN CYMBELINE. FEAR no more the heat o' th' Sun, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Fear no more the frown o' th' great, To thee the reed is as the oak. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Thou hast finished joy and moan. All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. |