Mine ear is much enamour’d of thy note;
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
And they fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
Out of the wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee;
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing, while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep:
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so,
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare