From Midsummer Night's Dream
Your eyes are load star and your tougue sweet air
More tunable than lark to sheperd's ear
When wheat is green, when Hawthorn buds appear.
Come, sit upon this flowry bed
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy
And stick musk roses in thy sleek smooth head
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy
Mislike me not for my complexion
The shadowed livery of the burnishd sun
To whom I am a neighbor and near bed
Bring me the fairest crerature northward born
Where Phoebus fire scarce throws the icicles
And let us make incision for your love
To prove whose blood is the reddiest, his or mine
Beshrow me for I love her heartily
For she is wise, if I can judge of her
The fair she is, if that mine eyes be true
And true she is if she hath provd herself
And therefore like herself wise, fair, true,
Shall be placed in my constant soul
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