II Blow, blow, thou winter wind, As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen Although thy breath be rude. Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh ho! the holly! This life is most jolly! Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Thou dost not bite so nigh Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not. Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Then, heigh ho! the holly! This life is most jolly! -William Shakespeare FIDELE FROM Cymbeline Fear no more the heat o' the sun Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great, To thee the reed is as the oak: Fear no more the lightning-flash Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: - William Shakespeare ARIEL'S SONGS FROM The Tempest I Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtesied when you have, and kiss'd, — The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Hark, hark! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow! II Where the bee sucks, there suck I: There I couch when owls do cry; On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough! FROM Love's Labor's Lost When icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-who! A merry note! While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, Tu-who! A merry note! While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. -William Shakespeare SIGH NO MORE, LADIES! FROM Much Ado about Nothing Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Sing no more ditties, sing no more Then sigh not so, but let them go, -William Shakespeare O MISTRESS MINE FROM Twelfth Night O mistress mine, where are you roaming? What is love? 'tis not hereafter; In delay there lies no plenty, Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty, -William Shakespeare LOVE IN SPRING-TIME FROM As You Like It It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring-time, the only pretty ring time, |