Over hill, over dale A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Life flows.

The Universe is not always so dramatic, neither is Shakespeare. 

As usual, the words found me this summer evening and gave me that soft and sparkling comfort, the sort of comfort I can find just among them. The voice of this genious came to me through centuries and saved me this evening, with its fairies and rubies and dew-drops and elves.

Life is the strongest magic one can find. 

Over hill, over dale

-from A Midsummer Night’s Dream-

by William Shakespeare

A wood near Athens. A Fairy speaks. 

 Over hill, over dale, 

 Thorough bush, thorough brier, 

 Over park, over pale, 

 Thorough flood, thorough fire, 

I do wander every where, 

 Swifter than the moon'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 savours: 

 I must go seek some dew-drops 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.