The plain-song cuckoo grey,
Whose note full many a man doth mark—
And dares not answer nay;—
for, indeed, who would set his wit to so
foolish a bird? Who would give a bird the
lie, though he cry "cuckoo" never so?
Titania.
I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
Mine ear is much enamor'd of thy note;
So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape,