While one of his bright beams yet glows in heaven,
I dare not leave the covert of the wood.
PUCK.
Hast thou collected from the last blown rose
The dewy drops, which, warmed by Cynthia's beam,
Do form the bath, wherein our gracious Queen
Her lovely person laves?
SECOND FAIRY.
I have them here
Collected lucent, in this diamond-drop.
THIRD FAIRY.
And I—look! in this Chalice, deftly wrought
Of tender rose-leaves, I do hold enshrined
The perfume of a whole sweet violet bed.
FOURTH FAIRY.
Hast thou fulfilled our Lord's commands thyself?
