Hoary-headed frosts

Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown

An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set.

It fell upon a little western flower,

Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it, love-in-idleness.

II. i. 107.

Fetch me that flower; the herb I showed thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania some time of the night,
Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight.

II. i. 166.

Some, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds.

II. i. 249.

II. ii. 3.

This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our 'tiring-house.

III. i. 3.

Quin. Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn.

III. i. 59.

Puck. What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here, So near the cradle of the fairy queen? What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor.

III. i. 79.

Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier.

III. i. 95.

Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier: Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire.

III. i. 108.

And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressèd flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

Peas-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustard-seed!

III. i. 161.

Tita. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night tapers crop their waxen thighs
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from painted butterflies,
To fan the moon-beams from his sleeping eyes:
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

III. i. 167.

He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch.

Obe. Flower of this purple dye,
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye.
When his love he doth espy,
Let her shine as gloriously

As the Venus of the sky.

III. ii. 26.

When thou wak'st, if she be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

III. ii. 102.

O, how ripe in show

Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow.

III. ii. 139.

So we grew together,

But yet an union in partition;

Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.

III. ii. 208.

Lys. [To Hermia.] Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile

thing, let loose,

Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!

III. ii. 260.

Lys.
You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made;
You bead, you acorn!

Get you gone, you dwarf ;

Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from thence all error with his might,
And make his eye-balls roll with wonted sight.
When they next wake, all this derision
Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;
And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,

III. ii. 328.

With league whose date till death shall never end.

III. ii. 366.

Her. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;

I can no farther crawl, no farther go;
My legs can keep no pace with my desires.

Here will I rest me till the break of day.

III. ii. 442.

Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery 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.

Bot. Where's Peas-blossom?

Peas. Ready.

Bot. Scratch my head, Peas-blossom.

IV. i. I.

Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat.

Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek

The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, pray you, let none of your people stir me: I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.

[Exeunt Fairies.]

So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle

Gently entwist: the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee, how I dote on thee !

[Enter PUCK.]

[They sleep.

Obe. [Advancing.] Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this

sweet sight?