Fairy Stories (i) (by William Shakespeare)

     Over hill, over dale,
         Thorough bush, thorough brier,
       Over park, over pale,
         Thorough flood, thorough fire,
         I do wander everywhere,
         Swifter than the moone'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.