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.
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? 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. Ding, dong, bell.
There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow; There cherries grow that none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which, when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rosebuds fill'd with snow; Yet them no peer nor prince may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still, Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill All that approach with eye or hand These sacred cherries to come nigh, Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
Rose-cheeked Laura, come; Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other Sweetly gracing. Lovely forms do flow From consent divinely framed; Heaven is music, and thy beauty's Birth is heavenly.
These dull notes we sing Discords need for helps to grace them, Only beauty purely loving Knows no discord, But still moves delight, Like clear springs renewed by flowing, Ever perfect, ever in them- Selves eternal.
Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me; For while thou view'st me with thy fading light Part of my life doth still depart with thee, And I still onward haste to my last night: Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly-- So every day we live, a day we die.