Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene,
And of the
sea that neighbours to her neare:
Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
And let them also with them
bring in hand
Another gay girland
For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses,
Bound truelove wize, with a
blew silke riband.
And let them make great store of bridale poses,
And let them eeke bring store of other
To deck the bridale bowers.
And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread,
For feare the stones
her tender foot should wrong,
Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along,
And diapred lyke the discolored
Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt,
For she will waken strayt;
The whiles doe ye this
song unto her sing,
The woods shall to you answer, and your Eccho ring.
Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed
The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well,
And greedy pikes
which use therein to feed;
(Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell;)
And ye likewise, which keepe
the rushy lake,
Where none doo fishes take;
Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light,
And in his
waters, which your mirror make,
Behold your faces as the christall bright,
That when you come whereas
my love doth lie,
No blemish she may spie.
And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keepe the deere,
on the hoary mountayne used to towre;
And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure,
steele darts doo chace from comming neer;
Be also present heere,
To helpe to decke her, and to help to
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.
Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time;
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her
silver coche to clyme;
And Phbus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt
And carroll of Loves praise.
The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft;
The Thrush replyes; the
Mavis descant playes;
The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock2 warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
this dayes merriment.
Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long?
When meeter were that ye should
T awayt the comming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds love-learnàd song,
deawy leaves among!
Nor they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and
theyr eccho ring.
My love is now awake out of her dreames,
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmàd were
cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
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
sweet paradice of Day and Night;
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al, that ever in this world
Doe make and still repayre:
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe
still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
And, as ye her array, still throw
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,
Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good
Fit for so joyfull day:
The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
Faire Sun! shew forth thy favourable
And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.
fayrest Phbus! father of the Muse!
If ever I did honour thee aright,
Or sing the thing that mote thy mind
Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse;
But let this day, let this one day, be myne;
Let all the
rest be thine.
Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho
Harke! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor,
and the trembling Croud,3
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But, most of all, the Damzels doe delite
they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe ravish
The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confusàd noyce,
it were one voyce,
Hymen, iëo Hymen, Hymen, they do shout;
That even to the heavens theyr shouting
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance,
doe thereto applaud,
And loud advaunce her laud;
And evermore they Hymen, Hymen sing,
That al the
woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.