Nature and Elements

Your mind is tossing on the ocean.

Baited like eagles having lately bath’d… As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.

And lards the lean earth as he walks along.

O! the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.

Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops.

Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops.

The lark, the herald of the morn.

The lark, the herald of the morn.

Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus’ lodging.

To lure this tassel-gentle back again.

Romeo: Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops— Juliet: O! swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve; Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.

Night and silence! who is here? Weeds of Athens he doth wear.

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

The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders At our quaint spirits.

The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders At our quaint spirits.

Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings, To make my small elves coats.

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania some time of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania some time of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark’d I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound, And maidens call it, Love-in-idleness.

Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres To hear the sea-maid’s music.

Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres To hear the sea-maid’s music.