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More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight,

But first come ye fayre houres which were begot
In Ioues sweet paradice, of Day and Night,
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot, 100
And al that euer in this world is fayre
Doe make and still repayre.

And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queen,

The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
And as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene,

And as ye vse to Venus, to her sing,

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Lyk
Oe where she comes along with portly pace
Lyke Phoebe from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best.
So well it her beseemes that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.

The whiles the woods shal answer and your Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,

eccho ring.

N

my

Ow is loue all ready forth to come,
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt,
And ye fresh boyes that tend vpon her
groome
Prepare your selues; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good aray
Fit for so ioyfull day,

The ioyfulst day that euer sunne did see.
Faire Sun, shew forth thy fauourable ray,
And let thy lifull heat not feruent be
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.

O fayrest Phœbus, father of the Muse,
If euer I did honour thee aright,

120

Or sing the thing, that mote thy mind delight,

Doe not thy seruants simple boone refuse,
But let this day let this one day be myne,
Let all the rest be thine.

Then I thy souerayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer and theyr eccho
ring.

Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres a

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mare a creature in your towne before, Ell me ye merchants daughters did ye see So

169

So sweet, so louely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store,
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yuory white,

Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath
rudded,

Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte, Arke how the Minstrels gin to shrill aloud Her brest like to a bowle of creame vncrudded,

Hanke how the Minitr that resounds from Her paps lyke lylies budded,

far,

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The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or iar.
But most of all the Damzels doe delite,
When they their tymbrels smyte,

And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe rauish quite,
The whyles the boyes run vp and downe the
street,

Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre,
And all her body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending vppe with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze,
Vpon her so to gaze,

181

Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,
To which the woods did answer and your eccho
ring.

BVt

Vt if ye saw that which no eyes can | Forget their seruice and about her fly, Ofte peeping in her face that seemes more fayre,

see,

The inward beauty of her liuely spright, Garnisht with heauenly guifts of high degree, Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,

And stand astonisht lyke to those which red Medusaes mazeful hed.

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ehold whiles she before the altar stands

220

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Owalis

NBwag done; hope of buic victory,

; bring home the bride againe,

Bring home with you the glory of her gaine,
With ioyance bring her and with iollity.
Neuer had man more ioyfull day then this,
Whom heauen would heape with blis.
Make feast therefore now all this liue long
day,

This day for euer to me holy is,

Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,
Poure not by cups, but by the belly full, 251
Poure out to all that wull,

And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall,
And Hymen also crowne with wreathes of vine,
And let the Graces daunce vnto the rest;
For they can doo it best :

The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing, To which the woods shal answer and theyr eccho ring.

Ing ye

Randle

260

the bels, ye yong men of the towne,

This day is holy; doe ye write it downe,
That
ye for euer it remember may.
This day the sunne is in his 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 chose the longest day in all the yeare,

270

Blearing the holy priest that to her speakes And shortest night, when longest fitter weare:

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Yet neuer day so long, but late would passe. Ring ye the bels, to make it weare away, And bonefiers make all day,

And daunce about them, and about them sing: that all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

H when will this long weary day haue end,

A when win this ue to vay vayo may loue?
How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend?
How slowly does sad Time his feathers moue?
Hast thee O fayrest Planet to thy home
Within the Westerne fome :

Thy tyred steedes long since haue need of rest.
Long though it be, at last I see it gloome,
And the bright euening star with golden creast
Appeare out of the East.

Fayre childe of beauty, glorious lampe of loue
That all the host of heauen in rankes doost lead,
And guydest louers through the nightes dread,
How chearefully thou lookest from aboue, 291
And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light
As ioying in the sight

Of these glad many which for ioy doe sing, That all the woods them answer and their echo ring.

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But let the night be calme and quietsome,

Without tempestuous storms or sud afray': Lyke as when Ioue with fayre Alcmena lay, When he begot the great Tirynthian groome : Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie, 330 And begot Maiesty.

And let the mayds and yongmen cease to sing: Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

Et no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares, Be heard all night within nor yet without: Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares, Breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout. Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights Make sudden sad affrights;

Ne let housefyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes,

340

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Nor the night Rauen that still deadly yels,
Nor damned ghosts cald vp with mighty spels,
Nor griesly vultures make vs once affeard:
Ne let th'unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still crok-
ing

Make vs to wish theyr choking.

350 Let none of these theyr drery accents sing; Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

Vt let stil Silence trew night watches keepe,

BThat sacred peace may in assurance rayne,

And tymely sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe, May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne,

The whiles an hundred little winged loues,
Like diuers fethered doues,

Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret darke, that none reproues,
Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares
shal spread

To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceald through couert night.

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Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will,
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more vpon her paradise of ioyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.
All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:

Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing, Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring. 371

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