Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse, Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne, And teach the woods and waters to lament Your dolefull dreriment: Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside, And having all your heads with girland crownd, Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound; Ne let the same of any be envide: Early, before the worlds light giving lampe Doe ye awake, and, with fresh lustyhed, Bid her awake; for Hymen is awake, 21 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 dere That on the hoary mountayne use to towre, And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure, With your steele darts doo chace from comming neer, Be also present heere, 70 To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing, That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time: And carroll of loves praise! The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft, 80 Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long, When meeter were that ye should now awake, T'awayt the comming of your joyous make, And hearken to the birds love-learned song, The deawy leaves among? For they of joy and pleasance to you sing, That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. 91 Set all your things in seemely good aray, The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see. O fayrest Phoebus, father of the Muse, 120 Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight, Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse, Harke how the minstrels gin to shrill aloud And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet, That all the sences they doe ravish quite, The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street, Crying aloud with strong confused noyce, As if it were one voyce. 160 Her modest eyes, abashed to behold Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing, 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? 170 Her goodly eyes lyke saphyres shining bright, 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 uncruded, Her paps lyke lyllies budded, Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre, And all her body like a pallace fayre, Ascending uppe, with many a stately stayre, To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre. Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze, 181 Upon her so to gaze, Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring? But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, The inward beauty of her lively spright, Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high de With trembling steps and humble reverence, Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may 220 Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes, And blesseth her with his two happy hands, How the red roses flush up in her cheekes, And the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne, Like crimsin dyde in gravne: 230 That even th' angels, which continually The more they on it stare. But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, 240 Now al is done; bring home the bride againe, Bring home the triumph of our victory, Bring home with you the glory of her gaine, With joyance bring her and with jollity. |