"How now, spirit? Whither wander you?"

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander every where,

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;

Those be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savours:

I must go seek some dew-drops here

And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

Farewell, thou lob of spirits: I'll be gone;

Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

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