Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste:
And therefore is love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd
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I know a bank where the wild thyme grows,
Where oxslips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight;
There the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:
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Either I mistake your shape and making quite
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Call'd Robin Goodfellow: Are you not he
That frights the maidens of the villagery;
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
Mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and Sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
Are you not he?
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Over hill, over dale,
Thourough 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
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If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.