.
.
  Over hill, over dale

Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
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:
        (A Midsummer Night's Dream, II. 1)

>

____________________________________________