With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out

I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?

Full fathom five thy father lies

For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase.

Foul whisperings are abroad

Love is a spirit all compact of fire.