TO DIANA.

99

TO DIANA.

HAIL, beauteous Dian, queen of shades,
That dwell'st beneath these shadowy glades,
Mistress of all those beauteous maids

That are by her allowed.

Virginity we all profess,

Abjure the worldly vain excess,
And will to Dian yield no less

Than we to her have vowed.

The shepherds, satyrs, nymphs, and fawns,
For thee will trip it o'er the lawns.

Come, to the forest let us go,
And trip it like the barren doe;
The fawns and satyrs still do so,
And freely thus they may.

The fairies dance and satyrs sing,
And on the grass tread many a ring,
And to their caves their ven'son bring;
And we will do as they.

The shepherds, satyrs, &c., &c.

Our food is honey from the bees,
And mellow fruits that drop from trees;
In chace we climb the high degrees
Of every steepy mountain.
And when the weary day is past,
We at the evening hie us fast,
And after this, our field repast,
We drink the pleasant fountain.

The shepherds, satyrs, &c., &c.

Thomas Heywood.

100

INVOCATION TO DIANA.

INVOCATION TO DIANA.

QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep.
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright!

Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;

Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear, when day did close.
Bless us then with wishéd sight,
Goddess excellently bright!

Lay thy bow of pearl apart,

And thy crystal-shining quiver:

Give unto the flying hart

Space to breathe how short soever;
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright!

B. Jonson.

TO APOLLO.

ΙΟΙ

TO APOLLO.

SING to Apollo, god of day,

Whose golden beams with morning play,
And make her eyes so brightly shine,
Aurora's face is called divine.

Sing to Phoebus and that throne
Of diamonds which he sets upon.
Io Pæans let us sing

To Physic and to Poesy's king.

Crown all his altars with bright fire,
Laurels bind about his lyre,
A Daphnean coronet for his head,
The Muses dance about his bed;
When on his ravishing lute he plays,
Strew his temple round with bays.
Io Pæans let us sing

To the glittering Delian king.

J. Lylye.

SHAKE off your heavy trance,
And leap into a dance

Such as no mortals use to tread;

Fit only for Apollo

To play to, for the moon to lead, And all the stars to follow!

F. Beaumont.

HOLIDAY IN ARCADIA.

103

HOLIDAY IN ARCADIA.

WOODMEN, shepherds, come away,
This is Pan's great holiday,
Throw off cares,

With your heaven-aspiring airs
Help us to sing,

While valleys with your echoes ring.

Nymphs that dwell within these groves,
Leave your arbours, bring your loves,
Gather posies,

Crown your golden hair with roses;