Classic Poem

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;
As you pass,
Foot like fairies on the grass.

Joy crown our bowers! Philomel,
Leave of Tereus' rape to tell.
Let trees dance,
As they at Thracian lyre did once;
Mountains play,
This is the shepherds' holiday.