11.

Weaving spiders, come not here;

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence;

Beetles black, approach not near:

Worm, nor snail, do no offence.

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:

Never harm, nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good night, with lullaby.

SHAKSPEARE.

FEAR no more the heat o' th' sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages:

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' th' great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:

The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,

Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;

Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finished joy and moan:

All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust.

OVER HILL, OVER DALE.

SHAKSPEARE.

OVER hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green;

The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see,
These be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savours;

I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.