[ARIEL'S SONG.]

Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd,--
The wild waves whist,--
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!
[Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly.]
The watch dogs bark:
[Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly.]
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting Chanticleer
[Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.]

FERDINAND.
Where should this music be? i' th' air or th' earth?
It sounds no more;--and sure it waits upon
Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wrack,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion,
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,--
Or it hath drawn me rather,--but 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

[ARIEL sings]
Full fathom five thy father lies: