TITANIA These are the forgeries of jealousy,
And never since the middle summer's spring83
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead84,
By paved fountain or by rushy85 brook,
Or in the beached margent86 of the sea,
To dance our ringlets87 to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport88.
Therefore the winds, piping89 to us in vain,
As in revenge, have sucked up from the sea
Contagious91 fogs, which falling in the land
Hath every petty river made so proud92
That they have overborne their continents93.
The ox hath therefore stretched94 his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost95 his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard96.
The fold97 stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion98 flock,
The nine men's morris99 is filled up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green100
For lack of tread are undistinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter here102:
No night is now with hymn or carol blessed.
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods104,
Pale in her anger, washes105 all the air,
That rheumatic diseases106 do abound.
And through this distemperature107 we see
The seasons alter; hoary-headed108 frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems'110 thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet111 of sweet summer buds