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“ But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnish'd with heavenly gifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonish'd like to those which red
Medusa's mazeful head.
There dwells sweet Love and constant Chastity,
Unspotted Faith, and comely Womanhood,
Regard of Honour, and mild Modesty ;
There Vertue reigns as queen in royal throne,
And giveth laws alone,
The which the base affections do obey,
And yield their services unto her will;
Ne thought of things uncomely ever may
Thereto approach, to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seen these her celestial treasures,
And unrevealed pleasures,
Then would ye wonder, and her praises sing,
That all the woods should answer, and your eccho

ring.
“Open thě temple-gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,
And all the pillars deck with girlands trim,
For to receive this saint 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 Virgins! learn obedience,
Whenso ye come into those holy places, ,
To humble your proud faces,
Bring her up to th' high altar that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endless matrimony make;
And let the roaring organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes,
The whiles with hollow throats
The choristers the joyous anthem sing,
That all the woods may answer, and their eccbo ring.

* Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, Hearing the holy priest that to her speaks, And blesses her with his two happy hands, How the red roses flush up in her cheeks ! And the pure snow with goodly vermil stain, Like crimsin dy'd in grain, That even the angels, which continually About the sacred altar do remain, Forget their service, and about her fly, Oft peeping in her face, that seems more fair The more they on it stare; But her sad eyes, still fastned on the ground, Are governed with goodly modesty, That suffers not one look to glaunce awry, Which may let in a little thought unsound. Why blush ye, Love! to give to me to your hand, The pledge of all our band ? Sing, ye sweet angels ! Alleluya sing, That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. Now all is done; bring home the bride again, Bring home the triumph of our victory; 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 bliss. 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 sweat and drunken be withal : Crown ye god Bacchus with a coronal, And Hymen also crown with wreaths of vine, And let the graces daunce unto the rest, For they can do it best; The whiles the maidens do their carol sing, To which the woods shall answer and their ecchoring.

" 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 ite downgiau
That ye for ever it remember may:
This day the sun is in its chiefest hight,
With Barnaby the bright;".
From whence declining daily by degrees,
He somewhat loseth of his heat and light,
When once the Crab behind his back he sees :
But for this time it ill ordained was,
To chuse the longest day in all the year,
And shortest night, when longest fitter were ;
Yet never day so long but late would pass.
Ring ye the bells to make it wear away, -
And bonefires make all day,
And daunce about them, and about them sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho

ring.

“Ah! when will this long weary day have end,
And lend me leave to come unto my love?
How slowly do the hours their numbers spend ?
How slowly doth sad Time his feathers move?
Haste thee, O fairest Planet! to thy home,
Within the western foame';
Thy tyred steeds long since have need of rest.
Long tho it be, at last I see it gloom,
And the bright evening-star, with golden crest,
Appear out of the east.
Fair child of beauty, glorious lamp of love,
That all the host of heaven in ranks doost lead,
And guidest lovers through the night's sad dread,
How cheerfully thou lookest from above,
And seem'st to laugh atween thy twinkling light,
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many, which for joy do sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their eccho ring.

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Now cease, ye Damsels! your delights forepast,
Enough it is that all the day was yours ;
Now day is done, and night is nighing fast,
Now bring the bride into the bridal bowres ;
Now night is come, now soon her disarray,
And in her bed her lay;
Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And silken curtains over her display,
And odour'd sheets, and arras, coverlets.
Behold how goodly my fair love does lie,
In proud humility;
Like onto Maia, whenas Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowrie grass,
'Twixt sleep and wake, after she weary was
With bathing in the Acidalian brook :
Now it is night, ye damsels may be gone,
And leave my love alone,
And leave likewise your former lay to sing;
The woods no more shall answer, nor your eccho

ring.
Now welcome night, thou night so long expected,
That long days labour doth at last defray,
And all my cares, which cruel love collected,
Hast summ'd in one, and cancelled for aye :
Spread thy broad wing over my love and me,
That no man may us see,
And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,
From fear of peril, and foul horror free;
Let no false treason seek us to entrap,
Nor any dread disquiet once annoy
The safety of our joy ;
But let the night be calm and quietsome,
Without tempestuous storms or sad affray,
Like as when Jove with fair Alcmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groom;
Or like as he

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And let the maids and young men cease to sing ; Ne let the woods them answer, nor their eccho ring.

Let no lamenting cries, nor doleful tears
Be heard all night within, nor yet without;
Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden fears,
Break gentle sleep with misconceived doubt:
Let no deluding dreams, nor dreadful sights,
Make sudden sad affrights;
Ne let house-fires, nor lightnings, helpless harms,
Ne let the ponk, nor other evil sprights,
Ne let mischievous witches with their charms,
Ne let hob.goblins, names whose sense we see not,
Fray us with things that be not:
Let not the skriech-owl nor the stork be heard,
Nor the night-raven, that still deadly yells,
Nor damned ghosts, call'd up with mighty spells,
Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard:
Ne let th' unpleasant quire of frogs still croking
Make us to wish their choking;
Let none of these their drery accents sing,
Ne let the woods them answer, nor their eccho ring;
But let still Silence true night-watches keep,
That sacred Peace may in assurance reign,
And timely Sleep, when it is time to sleep,
May pour his limbs forth on your pleasant plain ;
The whiles an hundred little winged Loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,
Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret dark, that none reproves,
Their pretty stealths shall work, and snares shall

spread
To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceal'd through covert night,
Ye Sons of Venus! play your sports at will,
For greedy Pleasure, careless of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes
Than what ye do, all be it good or ill.
All night, therefore, attend your merry play,
For it will soon be day :
Now none doth hinder you that say or sing,
Ne will the woods now answer, nor your eccho ring.

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