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By heaven, Hubert, I'm almoft afham'd
I am much bounden to your majefty.
Good friend, thou haft no caufe to fay fo yet,
But thou fhalt have-and creep time ne'er fo flow,
Yet it fhall come for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say-but, let it go:
The fun is in the heav'n, and the proud day,
Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy thick,
Making that idiot laughter keep men's eyes,
(A paffion hateful to my purposes)
Or if thou couldest see me without eyes,
Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n,
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
A local habitation and a name.
Midfummer Night's Dream