Reply. It is engender'd in the eyes;
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all ring Fancy's knell :
I'll begin it.-Ding dong, bell,
Ding, dong, bell.

ARIEL'S SONG.

[In the "Tempest."]

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.

SONG.

[In "Twelfth Night."]

COME away, come away, death,

And in sad cypress let me be laid;

Fly away, fly away, breath,

I am slain by a fair cruel maid.

My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,

O prepare it ;

My part of death no one so true

Did share it.

Not a flower, not a flower sweet

On my black coffin let there be strown;

Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:

A thousand thousand sighs to save,

Lay me, O ! where

Sad true lover ne'er find my grave,

Το weep there!

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,
That Sylvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling;
To her let us garlands bring.

SONG.

[In" Cymbeline."]

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.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
From it consummation have,

And renowned be thy grave!

SONG.

[From "As you Like it."]

UNDER the green-wood tree
Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to live i' the sun;

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

SONNET.

BEING your slave, what should I do, but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do till you require :
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you;
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour

When you have bid your servant once adieu! Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,

Where you may be, or your affair's suppose; But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save where you are: how happy you make those! So true a fool is love, that in your will Tho' you do any thing, he thinks no ill.