Songs of
Fancy

II

Lullaby for Titania

You spotted snakes with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.

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.

Weaving spiders, come not here;

Hence, you long-legg'd 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.

From "Midsummer-Night's Dream.”

III

Oberon and Titania to the Fairy Train

Oberon.

Through the house give glimmering light,

By the dead and drowsy fire;

Every elf and fairy sprite,

Hop as light as bird from brier;

And this ditty after me

Sing, and dance it trippingly.
Titania.

First, rehearse your song by rote,
To each word a warbling note:
Hand in hand with fairy grace
Will we sing and bless this place.
From "Midsummer-Night's Dream."

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

IV

Ariel's Songs

I

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have and kiss'd,

(The wild waves whist)

Songs of
Fancy

Fairy Land

Foot it featly here and there;

And sweet Sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!

Bow, wow,

The watch-dog's bark:

Bow, wow,

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!

II

Where the bee sucks, there suck I:

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly,
After summer merrily.

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough!

III

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.

Hark! now I hear them-
Ding-dong, bell!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

From "The Tempest."

Orpheus With His Lute

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music, plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers

There had made a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep or hearing, die.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

The Arming of Pigwiggen

(He) quickly arms him for the field,
A little cockle-shell his shield,
Which he could very bravely wield,
Yet could it not be piersed:

Fairy Land

Fairy
Land

His spear a bent both stiff and strong,
And well near of two inches long;
The pile was of a horsefly's tongue,

Whose sharpness naught reversed.

And put him on a coat of mail,
Which was of a fish's scale,

That when his foe should him assail,
No point should be prevailing.
His rapier was a hornet's sting,
It was a very dangerous thing;
For if he chanc'd to hurt the king,
It would be long in healing.

His helmet was a beetle's head,
Most horrible and full of dread,
That able was to strike one dead,
Yet it did well become him:
And for a plume a horse's hair,
Which being tosséd by the air,

Had force to strike his foe with fear,
And turn his weapon from him.

Himself he on an earwig set,

Yet scarce he on his back could get,

So oft and high he did curvet

Ere he himself could settle:

He made him turn, and stop, and bound,
To gallop, and to trot the round,