From The Tempest
] Where the bee sucks, there suck I:/ In a cowslip's bell I lie;/ There I couch when owls do cry./ On the bat's back I do fly/After summer merrily./ Merrily, merrily shall I live now/ Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee:/ But yet thou shalt have freedom:
so, so, so.