[122] The fairy land buys not the child of me.
[123] His mother was a votaress of my order:
And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
125 Full often hath she gossip’d by my side;
And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands,
[127] Marking the embarked traders on the flood;
When we have laugh’d to see the sails conceive
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
130 Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
[131] Following,—her womb then rich with my young squire,—