A Fairy Song
Over hill, over dale, 
Thorough bush, thorough brier, 
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 dewdrops here, 
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. 
                                              -By William Shakespeare 
2 4 2
if it is useful to u plz mark as best
it is to short
i want 3 or 5 para'
any way thanks
The Brainliest Answer!
To him, fragrance of mud enchants.
Odor of fertilizer and manure, he breathes.
Field’s fertility
builds his vitality.
He dreads monsoon’s hostility.
Season’s rains he prays for, all the while.
Thunder and lightening make him smile.
Those dark clouds and streaks of light bring tears. 
That sound and sight is a treat to his eyes and ears.
His fields earn his bread and butter.
That he grows our food is true to the last letter.
Unseasonal rains crash his crops.
Sight of dead fields kills his hopes.
Starvation and suffering knock at the door.
Debts and loss ground him to the floor.
Helpless and hopeless is this son of toil.
Unnatural end buries him under tons of soil.
Merciless monsoon’s fury does not seem to end.
More and more sons become victims of this fiend.
Mother Nature’s ways are weird and scary.
She isn’t always an angel or a fairy.
(by Srimati Raman)

What is it to see, in an Eagle glide
Which fills a human heart with so much pride? 
Is it that it soars effortless above the Earth
That steals us from our own limits & dearth? 
Trapped in our seas of befuddling sludge
We try and try but cannot budge. 
And then to see a mortal; with such ease take wing 
Up in a breeze that makes our failing spirits sing?
Do we, vicarious birds, search in it our childishness – 
When we too were young & yearned in heart to fly?
Taking flights of fancy through adolescent nights
Listening little, heeding less, knowing not why?
From its highest perch in the forest of snow 
Majestic – the Eagle soars alone.
Riding thermals, lording clouds 
Till dropping silent from the sky as a stone
But we, so quick and ready to fold 
Give up our wings at the whiff of age 
Losing years, cursing time, wasting spirit 
Living out entire lives in futile rage! 
(By Anand Kapoor)

2 5 2
wait.... m adding one more
thanku v much