And al that ever in this world is fayre Doe make and still repayre. And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene, And as ye her array, still throw betweene Some graces to be seene, And as ye use to Venus, to her sing, The whiles the woods shal answer and your eccho ring. Now is my love all ready forth to come, Let all the virgins therefore well awayt, And ye fresh boyes that tend upon her groome The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see. O fayrest Phoebus, father of the Muse, Or sing the thing, that mote thy mind delight, Let all the rest be thine. Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing, ΠΙΟ 120 That all the woods shal answer and theyr eccho ring. Harke how the Minstrels gin to shrill aloud 130 And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet, The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street, As if it were one voyce. Hymen io Hymen, Hymen they do shout, That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill As in approvance doe thereto applaud And loud advaunce her laud, And evermore they Hymen Hymen sing, 140 That al the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring. Loe where she comes along with portly pace Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best. Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres a tweene, And being crowned with a girland greene, Her modest eyes abashed to behold Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold, Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing. 150 160 That all the woods may answer and your eccho ring. Tell me ye merchants daughters did ye see So fayre a creature in your towne before, So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she, Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store, Her forehead yvory white, Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded, Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte, Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded, Her paps lyke lyllies budded, Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre, Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, 170. 180 To which the woods did answer and your eccho ring. But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, There dwels sweet love and constant chastity, There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne, The which the base affections doe obay, Then would ye wonder and her prayses sing, 190 200 That al the woods should answer and your echo ring. Open the temple gates unto my love, With trembling steps and humble reverence, Bring her up to th'high altar, that she may The Choristers the joyous Antheme sing, 210 220 That al the woods may answere and their eccho ring. Behold whiles she before the altar stands That even th'Angels which continually, About the sacred Altare doe remaine, Forget their service and about her fly, Ofte peeping in her face that seemes more fayre, But her sad eyes still fastened on the ground, That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry, Which may let in a little thought unsownd. 230 Why blush ye love to give to me your hand, The pledge of all our band? Sing ye sweet Angels, Alleluya sing, 240 That all the woods may answere and your eccho ring. Now al is done; bring home the bride againe, Bring home the triumph of our victory, Make feast therefore now all this live long day, Poure out the wine without restraint or stay, And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine, For they can doo it best : The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing, 250 To which the woods shal answer and theyr eccho ring. Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, And leave your wonted labors for this day : From whence declining daily by degrees, 261 When once the Crab behind his back he sees. 270 To chose the longest day in all the yeare, |