ΤΟ ΡΑΝ JOHN FLETCHER LL ye woods, and trees, and bowers, AL All ye virtues and ye powers That inhabit in the lakes, In the pleasant springs or brakes, To our sound, All this ground, With his honour and his name That defends our flocks from blame. He is great, and he is just, He is ever good, and must Daffodillies, Roses, pinks, and loved lilies Let us fling Whilst we sing, Ever holy, Ever holy, Ever honoured, ever young: S FOLDING THE FLOCKS JOHN FLETCHER HEPHERDS all, and maidens fair, 'Gins to thicken, and the sun And let your dogs lie loose without, From the mountains and, ere day, So shall you good shepherds prove, Now, good-night! May sweetest slumbers RUSTIC SONG From THE SUN'S DARLING THOMAS DEKKER AYMAKERS, rakers, reapers, and mowers, Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers, Sing, dance, and play, 'Tis holiday! The Sun does bravely shine On our ears of corn. Rich as a pearl Comes every girl. This is mine, this is mine, this is mine. Let us die ere away they be borne. Bow to our Sun, to our Queen, and that fair one Come to behold our sports; Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one, As those in princes' courts. These and me, With country glee, Will teach the woods to resound, Their bleating dams 'Mongst kids shall trip it round; For joy thus our wenches we follow. Wind, jolly huntsman, your neat bugles shrilly, Hounds make a lusty cry; Spring up, you falconers, partridges freely, Then let your brave hawks fly! Horses amain, Over ridge, over plain, The dogs have the stag in chase: So ho! ho! through the skies And sousing, kills with a grace! |