YE learned Sifters! which have oftentimes
Been to me aiding, others to adorn,
Whom ye thought worthy of your graceful rimes,
That ev'n the greatest did not greatly scorn
To hear their names fung in your simple layes,
But joyed in their praise;

ind when ye lift your own mishap to mourn, Which death, or love, or fortune's wreck, did raife,

our ftring could foon to fadder tenour turn, nd teach the woods and waters to lament our doleful dreriment;

ow lay thofe forrowful complaints aside,

nd having all your heads with girlands crown'd, elp me mine own love's praifes to refound,

e let the fame of any be envide:

Orpheus did for his own bride;

I unto my felf alone will fing,

Bring with you all the nymphs that you can hear
Both of the rivers and the forests green,
And of the fea that neighbours to her near,
All with gay girlands goodly well befeen;
And let them alfo with them bring in hand
Another gay girland,

For my fair love, of lillies and of roses,
Bound true-love wife with a blue filk riband;
And let them make great store of bridal pofies,
And let them eke bring store of other flowers
To deck the bridal bowers;

And let the ground whereas her foot fhall tread,
For fear the ftones her tender foot should wrong,
Be ftrew'd with fragrant flowers all along,
And diapred like the difcoloured meed:
Which done, do at her chamber-door await,
For fhe will waken strait;

The whiles do ye this fong unto her fing,

rly before the world's light-giving lamp

is golden beam upon the hills doth fpred, aving difperft the night's unchearful damp, ye awake, and with fresh luftihed,

a to the bowre of my beloved love,

ly trueft turtle-dove,

d her awake, for Hymen is awake,

nd long fince ready forth his mask to move, ith his bright tead that flames with many a flake,

nd many a batchelor to wait on him,
their fresh garments trim;

d her awake, therefore, and foon her dight,
or loe, the wifhed day is come at last,
hat fhall for all the pains and forrows past
ay to her ufury of long delight;
nd whilft fhe doth her dight,

o ye to her of joy and folace fing,

hat all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

1 ring.

"Ye nymphs of Mulla, which with careful heed
The filver fcaly trouts do tend full well,
And greedy pikes which use therein to feed,
(Thofe trouts and pikes all others do excel)
And ye likewife, which keep the rushie lake,
Where none do fishes take,

Bind up the locks the which hang scatterd light,
And in his waters, which your mirror make,
Behold your faces as the cryftal bright,
That when you come whereas my love doth lie,
No blemish the may spie.

And eke, ye lightfoot Maids! which keep the door,
That on the hoary mountain use to towre,
And the wild wolves which feek them to devour,
Which your steel darts do chace from coming near,
Be alio prefent here

To help to deck her, and to help to fing,
That all the woods may anfwer, and your eccho

ring.

Wake new, my Love! awake, for it is time; The rofie Morn long fince left Tithon's bed, And ready to her filver coach to clime,

And Phoebus 'gins to fhew his glorious head.

Hark! how the chearful birds do chaunt their layes,

And carrol of Love's praife.

The merry lark her nattins fings aloft,

The thrush replies, the mevis defcant plays,
The ouzel fhrills, the ruddock warbles foft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet confent,
To this day's merriment.

Ah! my dear Love! why do ye fleep thus long,

When meeter were that ye fhould now awake,
'T' await the coming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the bird's love-learned fong,
The dewie leaves among?

For they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them anfwer, and their eccho
ring.

"My love is now awake out of her dreams,
And her fair eyes, like ftars that dimmied were
With darkfome cloud, now thew their goodly
beams,

More bright than Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye Damfels! daughters of Delight,
Help quickly her to dight;

But first come, ye fair Houres! which were begot

In Jave's tweet paradife of day and night,
Which do the feafons of the year allot,
And all that ever in this world is fair

Do make and ftill repair :

And ye three Handmaids of the Cyprian queen, The which do itill adorn her beatity's pride, Help to adorn my beautifullest bride,

And as ye her array, fill throw between

Some graces to be feen;

And as ye ufe to Venus, to her fing,

"Hark! how the miniris 'gin to fill ill anad
Their merry mufick that refounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling croud,
That well agree withouten breacʼn o" jar:
But most of all the damzels do delite
When they their timbrels Imite,
And thereunto do daunce and carrol fweet,
That all the fenfes they do ravish quite;

The whiles the boys run up and down t street,

Crying aloud, with frong confused noife,
As if it were one voice,

Hymen, Io Hymen! Hymen they do fhout,
That even to the heavens their thouting farl
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fil;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance, do thereto applaud,
And loud advance her laud.

And even more they Hymen, Hymen fing, That all the woods them antwer, and their ex ring.

"Loe, where fhe comes along with portly paz,
Like Phabe, from her chamber of the Eat,
Arifing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that feems a virgin beft:
So well it her befcems, that ye would ween
Some angel fhe had been:

Her long loofe yellow locks, like golden wire.
Sprinkled with pearl, and perling flowre >

tween,

Do like a golden mantel her attire,
And being crowned with a girland green,
Seem like fome maiden queen.
Her modeft eyes, abashed to behold
So many gazers as on her do ftare,
Upon the lowly ground affixed are,
Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to hear her praifes fung so loud,
So far from being proud.
Nathlefs do ye full loud her praifes fing,

ring.

"Now is my love all ready forth to come,
Let all the virgins therefore well await;
And ye, fresh Boys, that tend upon her groom,
Prepare your felves, for he is coming ftrait :
Set all your things in feemly good array,
Fit for fo joyful day,

The joyfulft day that ever fun did fee.
Fair sun! fhew forth thy favourable ray,
And let thy life-ful heat not fervent be,
For fear of burning her fun-fhiny face,
Her beauty to difgrace.

O fairest Phœbus! father of the Mufe,
If ever I did honour thee aright,

Or fing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Do not thy fervant's fimple boen refule,
But let this day, let this one day be mine,
Let all the reft be thine:

'I'nen I thy foveraigu praifes loud will fing,

3hat all the woods fall anfwer, and their eccho

sing.

ring.

"Tell me, ye merchants' daughters! did y:!
So fair a creature in your town before,
So fweet, fo lovely, and fo mild as the,
Adorn'd with beauty's grace and vertue's flore?
Her goodly eyes like faphires fhining bright,
Her forehead ivory white,

Her checks like apples which the fun E

rudded

Her lips like cherries, charming men to bite,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudde
Her paps like lilies budded,

Hier inowy neck like to a marble towre,
And all her body like a palace fair,
Afcending up with many a fately stair
To Honour's feat, and Chaftity's fweet bewe
Why stand ye fill, ye virgins! in an.aze,
Upon her fo to gaze;

Whiles ye forget your former lay to fing,
To which the woods did antwer, and; er en

ring.

"But if ye faw that which no eyes can fee,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnifh'd with heavenly gifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at the fight,
And ftand astonish'd like to thofe which red
Medufa's mazeful head.

There dwells fweet Love and constant Chastity,
Unfpotted Faith and comely Womanhood,
Regard of Honour, and mild Modefty;
There Vertue reigns as queen of royal throne,
And giveth laws alone,

The which the base affections do obcy,.
And yield their fervices unto her will;
Ne thought of things uncomely ever may
Thereto approach, to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once feen these her celestial treasures,
And unrevealed pleasures,

Then would ye wonder, and her praises fing,
That all the woods fhould anfwer, and your eccho
ring.

"Open the temple-gates unto my love,
Open them wide that the may enter in,
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,
And all the pillars deck with girlands trim,
For to receive this faint with honour due,
That cometh in to you.

With trembling steps and humble reverence
She cometh in before th' Almighty's view;
Of her, ye Virgius! learn obedience,
Whenfo ye come into thofe holy places,
To humble your proud faces,

Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may
The facred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endless matrimony make;
And let the roaring organs loudly play
The praites of the Lord, in lively notes,
The whiles with hollow throats
The chorifters the joyous anthems fing, [ring.
That all the woods may anfwer, and their eccho

Behold, whiles fhe before the altar ftands,
Hearing the holy prieft that to her fpeaks,
And bleffes her with his two happy hands,
How the red rofes flush up in her cheeks!
And the pure fnow, with goodly vermil stain,
Like crinifin dy'd in grain,

That even the angels, which continually
About the facred altar do remain,
Forget their fervice, and about her fly,

Oft pceping in her face, that feems more fair
The more they on it ftare:

But her fad eyes, ftill faftned on the ground,
Are governed with goodly modefty,
That fuffers not one look to glaunce awry,
Which may let in a little thought unfound.
Why blush ye, Love! to give to me your hand,
The pledge of all your band?

Sing, ye fweet angels! Alleluya fing,

Bring home with you the glory of her gain,
With joyance bring her, and with jollity.
Never had man more joyful day than this,
Whom Heaven would heap with blifs.
Make feast, therefore, now all this live-long day,
This day for ever to me holy is;

Pour out the wine without restraint or stay,
Pour not by cups, but by the belly-full:
Pour out to all that wull,

And sprinkle all the posts and walls with wine,
That they may fweat and drunken be withal:
Crown ye god Bacchus with a coronal,
And Hymen alfo crown with wreaths of vine,
And let the Graces daunce unto the reft,
For they can do it beft;

The whiles the maidens do their carol fing,
To which the woods fhall anfwer, and their eccho
ring.

"Ring ye the bells, ye young men of the town,
And leave your wonted labours for this day;
This day is holy; do you write it down,
That ye for ever it remember may :
This day the fun is in its chiefelt hight,
With Barnaby the bright;

From whence declining daily by degrees,
He fomewhat lofeth of his heat and light,
When once the Crab behind his back he fees:
But for this time it ill ordained was,
To chufe the longest day in all the year,
And shortest night, when longest fitter were;
Yet never day fo long but late would pais.
Ring ye the bells to make it wear away,
And bonefires mike all day,

And daunce about them, and about them fing, That all the woods may anfwer, aud your eccho ring.

"Ah! when will this long weary day have end,
And lend me leave to come unto my love?
How flowly do the hours their numbers spend?
How flowly doth fad Time his feathers move?
Hafte thee, O faireft Planet! to thy home,
Within the western foame;

Thy tyred steeds long fince have need of reft.
Long tho it be, at laft I fee it gloom,
And the bright evening-ftar, with golden creft,
Appear out of the caft.

Fair child of beauty, glorious lamp of love,
That all the host of heaven in ranks dooft lead,
And guideft lovers through the night's fad dread,
How chearfully thou lookeft from above,
And feem' to laugh atween thy twinkling light,
As joying in the fight

Of thefe glad many, which for joy do fing,
That all the woods them anfwer, and their eccho
ring."

ring.

"Now all is done; bring home the bride again, Bring home the triumph of our victory:

Now day is done, and night is nighing faft, Now bring the bride into the bridal bowres; Now night is come, now foon her difarray, And in her bed her lay;

Kk j

Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And filken curtains over her display,
And odour'd fheets, and arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my fair love does lie,
In proud humility;

Like unto Maia, whenas Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowrie grafs,
"Twixt fleep and wake, after she weary was
With bathing in the Acidalian brook :
Now it is night, ye damfels may be gone,
And leave my love alone,

And leave likewife your former lays to fing;
The woods no more fhall anfwer, nor your eccho
ring.

Now welcome night, thou night fo long expected,

That long days labour doth at last defray,
And all my cares, which cruel Love collected,
Haft fumni'd in one, and cancelled for aye:
Spread thy broad wing over my love and me,
That no man may us fee,

And in thy fable mantle us enwrap,
From fear of peril, and foul horror free;
Let no falfe treafon feek us to entrap,
Nor any dread difquiet once annoy
The fafety of our joy,

But let the night be calm and quietfome,
Without tempeftuous ftorms or fad affray,
Like as when Jove with fair Alemena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groom;
Or like as when he with thy felf did lie,
And begot Majefty;

And let the maids and young men ceafe to fing;
Ne let the woods them anfwer, nor their eccho

ring.

Let no lamenting cries nor doleful tears
Be heard all night within, nor yet without;
Ne let falfe whispers, breeding hidden fears,
Break gentle fleep with mifconceived doubt?
Let no deluding dreams, nor dreadful fights,
Make fudden fad affrights;

Ne let house-fires, nor lightnings, helpless harms,
Ne let the ponk, nor other evil sprights,
Ne let mifchievous witches with their charms,
Ne let hob-goblins, names whose sense we fee

not,

Fray us with things that be not:

Let not the skriech-owl nor the ftork be heard,
Nor the night-raven, that still deadly yells,
Nor damned ghofts, call'd up with mighty fpells,
Nor griefly vultures, make us once affeard:
Ne let th' unpleafant quire of frogs ftill croking
Make us to with their choking;

Let none of these their drery accents fing,
Ne let the woods them anfwer, nor their eccho
ring.

But let still Silence true night-watches keep,
That facred Peace may in affurance reign,
And timely Sleep, when it is time to fleep,
May pour his limbs forth on your pleafant plain;

The whiles an hundred little winged Loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,

Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the fecret dark, that none reproves,
Their pretty stealths fhall work, and fnares fall
fpread,

To filch away fweet fnatches of delight,
Conceal'd through covert night.
Ye Sons of Venus! play your fports at will,
For greedy Pleasure, careless of your toyes,
Think more upon her Paridise of joyes
Then what you do, all be it good or ill.
All night, therefore, attend your merry play
For it will foon be day :

Now none doth hinder you that say or fing,
Ne will the woods now anfwer, nor your ecche
ring.

Who is the fame which at my window peeps?
Or whofe is that fair face which shines fo brigt:
Is it not Cynthia, fhe that never fleeps,
But walks about high heaven all the night?
O! faireft Goddess! do thou not envy
My love with me to spy;

For thou likewife didft love, though now thought,

And for a fleece of wool, which privily
The Latmian fhepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought:

Therefore to us be favourable now,

And fith of womens labours thou haft charge,
And generation goodly dooft enlarge,
Encline thy will t' effect our wifhful vow,
And the chafte womb inform with timely feed,
That may our comfort breed;

Till which we cease our hopful hap to fing,
Ne let the woods us anfwer, nor our eccho ring.

And thou, great Juno! which with awful migh
The laws of wedlock ftill dooft patronize,
And the religion of the faith first plight,
With facred rites haft taught to folemnize,
And eke for comfort often called art
Of women in their smart,

Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blefling unto us impart.
The bridale bowre and genial bed remain,
And thou, glad Genius! in whofe gentle hand
Without blemish or stain,

And the sweet pleasures of their love's delight
With fecret aid dooft fuccour and fupply,
Till they bring forth the fruitful progeny,
Send us the timely fruit of this fame night,
And thou, fair Hebe! and thou, Hymen! free,
Grant that it fo may be.

Till which we cease your further praise to fing,
Ne any woods shall answer, for your eccho ring.

And ye, high Heavens! the temple of the gods,
In which a thousand torches flaming bright
Do burn, that to us wretched earthly clods
In dreadful darkness lend defired light;
And all ye Powers which in the fame remain,
More than we men can feign,

521

And ccafe till then our timely joys to fing, The woods no more us anfwer, nor our eccho ring.

SONG made in lieu of many ornaments

With which my love fhould duly have been deckt,
Which cutting off through hafty accidents,
Ye would not stay your due time to expect,
But promis'd both to recompence,

But unto her a goodly ornament,

And for fhort time an endless monument.