From “Twelfth Night,” Act II. Sc. 3.

O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! your true-love ’s coming
  That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers’ meeting,—
  Every wise man’s son...

Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia
YOU meaner beauties of the night,
  That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light,—
  You common people of the skies,
  What are you when the moon shall rise?

You curious chanters of the wood,...