And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet markd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with loves wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen,5 mans hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
A Midsummer Nights Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Note 1. Act ii. sc. 2 in Singer and Knight. [back]