EPITHALAMION

And all thy blessings unto us impart. And thou, glad Genius, in whose gentle hand

The bridal bower and genial bed remain, Without blemish or stain;

And the sweet pleasures of their loves' delight

With secret aid dost 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 may so be!

Till which we cease your further praise to sing;

Ne any woods shall answer, nor your echo ring.

And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods,

In which a thousand torches flaming bright

Do burn, that to us wretched earthly clods In dreadful darkness lend desired light; And all ye powers which in the same remain,

More than we men can fain,

Pour out your blessing on us plenteously,
And happy influence upon us rain,
That we may raise a large posterity,

Which from the earth, which they may long possess

With lasting happiness,

Up to your haughty palaces may mount: And, for the guerdon of their glorious merit,

May heavenly tabernacles there inherit,
Of blessed Saints for to increase the count.
So let us rest, sweet love, in hope of this,
And cease till then our timely joys to
sing;

The woods no more us answer, nor our echo ring.

Song! made in lieu of many ornaments, With which my love should duly have been decked,

Which cutting off through hasty accidents, Ye would not stay your due time to expect, But promised both to recompense;

Be unto her a goodly ornament,

And for short time an endless monument!

Perigot and
Willy's
Roundelay

Perigot. It fell upon a holy eve,
Willy. (Hey-ho, holiday!)
Perigot. When holy fathers

Willy.

wont to

shrieve,

(Now 'ginneth this roundelay),

Perigot. I saw the bouncing Bellibone,
Willy.
(Hey-ho, Bonnibell!)

Perigot. Tripping over the dale alone;

Willy.

(She can trip it very well:)

Perigot. Well decked in a frock of gray, (Hey-ho, gray is greet!)

Willy.

Perigot. And in a kirtle of green say

Willy.

(The green is for maidens meet).

Willy.

Perigot. A chapelet on her head she wore, (Hey-ho, the chapelet!) Perigot. Of sweet violets therein was store, Willy. She sweeter than the violet. Perigot. My sheep did leave their wonted food,

Willy.

(Hey-ho, silly sheep!)

Perigot. And gazed on her as they were

Willy.

eye,

As clear as the crystal glass: Perigot. All as the sunny beam so bright (Hey-ho, the sunbeam!) Perigot. Glanceth from Phoebus' face forth

Willy.

right,

Willy. So love into my heart did

stream.

Perigot. Or as the thunder cleaves the clouds,

Willy.

(Hey-ho, the thunder!)

Perigot. Wherein the lightsome levin

Willy.

shrouds,

So cleaves thy soul asunder;

Perigot. Or as Dame Cynthia's silver ray

Willy.

PERIGOT AND WILLY

(Hey-ho, the moonlight!) Perigot. Upon the glittering wave doth

play,

Willy. Such play is a piteous plight:

Perigot. The glance into my heart did glide,

Willy.

(Hey-ho, the glider!)

Perigot. Therewith my soul was sharply

gride;

Willy. Such wounds soon waxen wider. Perigot. Hasting to wrench the arrow out, Willy. (Hey-ho, Perigot!)

Perigot. I left the head in my heart-root. Willy. It was a desperate shot.

Perigot. There it rankleth aye more and

Willy.

more,

(Hey-ho, the arrow!)

Perigot. Nor can I find salve for my sore: Willy. (Love is a cureless sorrow.) Perigot. And though my bale with death I bought,

Willy.

(Hey-ho, heavy cheer!)

Perigot. Yet should thilk lass not from my

thought.

Willy. So you may buy gold too dear.

Perigot. But whether in painful love I

pine,