Collected English Verse — William Shakespeare. b. 1564, d. 1616 (Part 2 of 9)

138   (ii)

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!

139   (iii)

COME unto these yellow sands,
   And then take hands:
Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d,—
   The wild waves whist,—
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
     Hark, hark!
     Bow, wow,
    The watch-dogs bark:
     Bow, wow.
    Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a- diddle-dow!

140   (iv)

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.

141   (v)

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!

142   Love

TELL me where is Fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourishàed?
       Reply, 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!
All. Ding, dong, bell!

143   Sweet-and-Twenty

O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! your true love’s coming,
    That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
    Every wise man’s son doth know.
    What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
    Present mirth hath present laughter;
      What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty!
    Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

144   Dirge

COME away, come away, death,
    And in sad cypres¹ 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 corse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
      Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
      To weep there!