The old grey steeple in the east,
Wash from my soul this terrible night.
I breathe, I live; the air is pure.
THE BOY’S DREAM
Oberon
Titania,
and Puck
A boy sleeps on the wooded bank of a small river running
out upon the seashore. A night in spring.
Oberon.Well met by starlight, my Titania.