Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough briar,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire
I do wander everywhere.
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Amy Marcy Cheney Beach (1867 - 1944), "Over hill, over dale", op. 39 no. 1 (1897), from Three Shakespeare choruses, no. 1 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Matthew Dewey (b. 1984), "Over hill, over dale", 2013, first performed 2013 [ baritone and piano ], from Four Shakespeare Songs, no. 1 [sung text not yet checked]
- by John Linton Gardner (1917 - 2011), "Over hill, over dale ", op. 181 no. 3 (1988) [ counter-tenor, recorder, harpsichord, and violoncello ], from Six by Four, no. 3 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872 - 1958), "Over hill, over dale", 1951 [ chorus ], from Three Shakespeare Songs, no. 3, partsong [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Per colline e per valli", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 14
Word count: 77
Per colline e per valli,
tra rovi e boscaglie,
per siepi e per campi
fra piogge e fra lampi
io vado vagando.
Più lieve e leggero della sfera lunare
La regina delle fate io debbo servire,
Rugiada spargo sui magici cerchi nel prato.
Le primule intorno da scorta le fanno;
i loro abiti d'oro sono punteggiati
da rossi rubini, doni fatati,
vi sta racchiuso il loro profumo:
E ora perle di rugiada io vado a cercare,
orecchini a ogni primula voglio donare.
