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* 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 Push 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 odesty,
That suffers not one look to glzunce 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.

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" 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.

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“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 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 thenı, and about them sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho


“ 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 crést,
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.
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 unto Maia, whenas Jove her took
In mpe, 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

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 Alçmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groom;
Or like as when he with thy self did lie,
And begot Majesty ;
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 spares shall

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.

Who is the same which at my window peeps ?
Or whose is that fáir face which shines so bright?
Is it not Cynthia, she that never sleeps,
But walks about high heaven all the night?
O! fairest Goddess ! do thou not envy
My love with me to spy;
For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought,
And for a fleece of wool, which privily
The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought:
Therefore to us be favourable now,
And sith of womens labours thou hast charge,
And generation goodly doost enlarge,
Encline thy will t' effect our wishful vow,
And the chaste womb inform with timely seed,
That may our comfort breed;
Till which we cease our hopeful hap to sing,
Ne let the woods us answer, nor our éccho ring.

And trou, great Juno!, which with aweful might
The laws of wedlock still doost patronize,
And the religion of the faith first plight,
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize,
And eke for comfort often called art
Of women in their smart,
Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessing unto us impart.
And thou, glad Genius! in whose gentle hand
The bridale bowre and genial bed remain,
Without blemish or stain,
And the sweet pleasures of their love's delight
With secret aid doost succour and supply,
Till they bring forth the fruitful progeny,
Send us the timely fruit of this same night.
And thou, fair Hebe! and thou, Hymen! free
Grant that it so may be.
Till which we cease your further praise to sing,
Ne any woods shall answer, nor your eccho sing

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