Over hill over dale

from the quills of dead white poets

William Shakespeare ( 1564 – 1616 )

shakespeare

Over hill, over dale,

Through bush, through briar,

Over park, over pale,

Through blood, through fire,

I do wander everywhere,

Swifter than the moone’s sphere;

And I serve the fairy queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green.

The cowslips tall her pensioners be:

In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savour:

I must go seek some dewdrops here,

And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.

Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I’ll be gone:

Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

From “Midsummer Night Dream”

About Paul Jacko

Jacko was born in Czechoslovakia not long before the communist putsch in February 1948. He studied industrial chemistry there and left in 1969 for Australia, where he became a lawyer and established his own practice. He has now retired and beside hunting, fishing, camping, prospecting and playing golf he amuses himself by writing.
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