Stay, Thames, to heare my Song, thou great and famous Flood
ROWLAND .
Stay, Thames , to heare my Song, thou great and famous Flood,
Beta alone the Phoenix is of all thy watry Brood,
The Queene of Virgins onely Shee,
The King of Floods allotting Thee
Of all the rest, be joyfull then to see this happy Day,
Thy Beta now alone shall be the Subject of my Lay.
With daintie and delightsome straynes of dapper Verilayes:
Come lovely Shepheards, sit by me, to tell our Beta's prayse,
And let us sing so high a Verse,
Her soveraigne Vertues to rehearse:
That little Birds shall silent sit to heare us Shepheards sing,
Whilst Rivers backward bend their course, and flow up to their spring.
Range all thy Swans, faire Thames , together on a ranke,
And place them each in their degree upon thy winding Banke,
And let them set together all,
Time keeping with the Waters fall:
And crave the tunefull Nightingale to helpe them with her Lay,
The Woosell and the Throstle-Cocke , chief musike of our May.
See what a troupe of Nymphs, come leading Hand in Hand,
In such a number that well-neere they take up all the Strand:
And harke how merrily they sing,
That makes the Neigh'bring Meddowes ring,
And Beta comes before alone, clad in a purple Pall,
And as the Queene of all the rest doth weare a Coronall.
Trim up her golden Tresses with Apollo's sacred Tree,
Whose Tutage and especiall care I wish her still to bee,
That for his Darling hath prepar'd,
A glorious Crowne as her reward,
Not such a golden Crowne as haughtie Caesar weares,
But such a glittering starry one as Ariadne beares.
Mayds, get the choycest Flowres, a Garland and entwine,
Nor Pinks nor Pansies let there want, be sure of Eglantine,
See that there be store of Lillyes,
(Call'd of Shepheards Daffadillyes).
With Roses Damaske, White, and Red, the dearest Flower-delice,
The Cowslip of Jerusalem , and Clove of Paradise .
O thou great Eye of Heaven, the Dayes most dearest Light,
With thy bright Sister Cynthia , the Glorie of the Night,
And those that make yee seven,
To us the neer'st of Heaven,
And thou, O gorgeous Iris , with all thy Colour dy'd,
When shee streames forth her Rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
In thee, whilst shee beholds (O Flood) her heavenly Face,
The Sea-Gods in their watry Armes would gladly her imbrace,
The intising Syrens in their layes,
And Tritons doe resound her prayse,
Hasting with all the speed they can unto the spacious Sea,
And through all Neptunes Court proclaim our Beta's holyday.
O evermore refresh the Roote of the fat Olive Tree,
In whose sweet shaddow ever may thy Banks preserved bee.
With Bayes that Poets doe adorne,
And Mirtles of chaste Lovers worne,
That faire may be the Fruit, the Boughes preserv'd by peace,
And let the mournefull Cypres die, and here for ever cease.
Weele strew the Shore with Pearle, where Beta walks alone,
And we will pave her Summer Bower with the rich Indian stone,
Perfume the Ayre and make it sweet,
For such a Goddesse as is meet,
For it her Eyes for purity contend with Titans Light,
No marvaile then although their Beames doe dazle humane sight.
Sound lowde your Trumpets then from Londons loftiest Towers,
To beate the stormie Tempests back, and calme the raging Showers,
Set the Cornet with the Flute,
The Orpharion to the Lute,
Tuning the Taber and the Pipe to the sweet Violons,
And mocke the Thunder in the Ayre with the lowd Clarions.
Beta , long may thine Altars smoke with yeerely Sacrifice,
And long thy sacred Temples may their high Dayes solemnize,
Thy Shepheards watch by Day and Night,
Thy Mayds attend thy holy Light,
And thy large Empire stretch her Armes from East in to the West,
And Albion on the Appenines advance her conquering Crest. ROWLAND .
Stay, Thames , to heare my Song, thou great and famous Flood,
Beta alone the Phoenix is of all thy watry Brood,
The Queene of Virgins onely Shee,
The King of Floods allotting Thee
Of all the rest, be joyfull then to see this happy Day,
Thy Beta now alone shall be the Subject of my Lay.
With daintie and delightsome straynes of dapper Verilayes:
Come lovely Shepheards, sit by me, to tell our Beta's prayse,
And let us sing so high a Verse,
Her soveraigne Vertues to rehearse:
That little Birds shall silent sit to heare us Shepheards sing,
Whilst Rivers backward bend their course, and flow up to their spring.
Range all thy Swans, faire Thames , together on a ranke,
And place them each in their degree upon thy winding Banke,
And let them set together all,
Time keeping with the Waters fall:
And crave the tunefull Nightingale to helpe them with her Lay,
The Woosell and the Throstle-Cocke , chief musike of our May.
See what a troupe of Nymphs, come leading Hand in Hand,
In such a number that well-neere they take up all the Strand:
And harke how merrily they sing,
That makes the Neigh'bring Meddowes ring,
And Beta comes before alone, clad in a purple Pall,
And as the Queene of all the rest doth weare a Coronall.
Trim up her golden Tresses with Apollo's sacred Tree,
Whose Tutage and especiall care I wish her still to bee,
That for his Darling hath prepar'd,
A glorious Crowne as her reward,
Not such a golden Crowne as haughtie Caesar weares,
But such a glittering starry one as Ariadne beares.
Mayds, get the choycest Flowres, a Garland and entwine,
Nor Pinks nor Pansies let there want, be sure of Eglantine,
See that there be store of Lillyes,
(Call'd of Shepheards Daffadillyes).
With Roses Damaske, White, and Red, the dearest Flower-delice,
The Cowslip of Jerusalem , and Clove of Paradise .
O thou great Eye of Heaven, the Dayes most dearest Light,
With thy bright Sister Cynthia , the Glorie of the Night,
And those that make yee seven,
To us the neer'st of Heaven,
And thou, O gorgeous Iris , with all thy Colour dy'd,
When shee streames forth her Rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
In thee, whilst shee beholds (O Flood) her heavenly Face,
The Sea-Gods in their watry Armes would gladly her imbrace,
The intising Syrens in their layes,
And Tritons doe resound her prayse,
Hasting with all the speed they can unto the spacious Sea,
And through all Neptunes Court proclaim our Beta's holyday.
O evermore refresh the Roote of the fat Olive Tree,
In whose sweet shaddow ever may thy Banks preserved bee.
With Bayes that Poets doe adorne,
And Mirtles of chaste Lovers worne,
That faire may be the Fruit, the Boughes preserv'd by peace,
And let the mournefull Cypres die, and here for ever cease.
Weele strew the Shore with Pearle, where Beta walks alone,
And we will pave her Summer Bower with the rich Indian stone,
Perfume the Ayre and make it sweet,
For such a Goddesse as is meet,
For it her Eyes for purity contend with Titans Light,
No marvaile then although their Beames doe dazle humane sight.
Sound lowde your Trumpets then from Londons loftiest Towers,
To beate the stormie Tempests back, and calme the raging Showers,
Set the Cornet with the Flute,
The Orpharion to the Lute,
Tuning the Taber and the Pipe to the sweet Violons,
And mocke the Thunder in the Ayre with the lowd Clarions.
Beta , long may thine Altars smoke with yeerely Sacrifice,
And long thy sacred Temples may their high Dayes solemnize,
Thy Shepheards watch by Day and Night,
Thy Mayds attend thy holy Light,
And thy large Empire stretch her Armes from East in to the West,
And Albion on the Appenines advance her conquering Crest.
Stay, Thames , to heare my Song, thou great and famous Flood,
Beta alone the Phoenix is of all thy watry Brood,
The Queene of Virgins onely Shee,
The King of Floods allotting Thee
Of all the rest, be joyfull then to see this happy Day,
Thy Beta now alone shall be the Subject of my Lay.
With daintie and delightsome straynes of dapper Verilayes:
Come lovely Shepheards, sit by me, to tell our Beta's prayse,
And let us sing so high a Verse,
Her soveraigne Vertues to rehearse:
That little Birds shall silent sit to heare us Shepheards sing,
Whilst Rivers backward bend their course, and flow up to their spring.
Range all thy Swans, faire Thames , together on a ranke,
And place them each in their degree upon thy winding Banke,
And let them set together all,
Time keeping with the Waters fall:
And crave the tunefull Nightingale to helpe them with her Lay,
The Woosell and the Throstle-Cocke , chief musike of our May.
See what a troupe of Nymphs, come leading Hand in Hand,
In such a number that well-neere they take up all the Strand:
And harke how merrily they sing,
That makes the Neigh'bring Meddowes ring,
And Beta comes before alone, clad in a purple Pall,
And as the Queene of all the rest doth weare a Coronall.
Trim up her golden Tresses with Apollo's sacred Tree,
Whose Tutage and especiall care I wish her still to bee,
That for his Darling hath prepar'd,
A glorious Crowne as her reward,
Not such a golden Crowne as haughtie Caesar weares,
But such a glittering starry one as Ariadne beares.
Mayds, get the choycest Flowres, a Garland and entwine,
Nor Pinks nor Pansies let there want, be sure of Eglantine,
See that there be store of Lillyes,
(Call'd of Shepheards Daffadillyes).
With Roses Damaske, White, and Red, the dearest Flower-delice,
The Cowslip of Jerusalem , and Clove of Paradise .
O thou great Eye of Heaven, the Dayes most dearest Light,
With thy bright Sister Cynthia , the Glorie of the Night,
And those that make yee seven,
To us the neer'st of Heaven,
And thou, O gorgeous Iris , with all thy Colour dy'd,
When shee streames forth her Rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
In thee, whilst shee beholds (O Flood) her heavenly Face,
The Sea-Gods in their watry Armes would gladly her imbrace,
The intising Syrens in their layes,
And Tritons doe resound her prayse,
Hasting with all the speed they can unto the spacious Sea,
And through all Neptunes Court proclaim our Beta's holyday.
O evermore refresh the Roote of the fat Olive Tree,
In whose sweet shaddow ever may thy Banks preserved bee.
With Bayes that Poets doe adorne,
And Mirtles of chaste Lovers worne,
That faire may be the Fruit, the Boughes preserv'd by peace,
And let the mournefull Cypres die, and here for ever cease.
Weele strew the Shore with Pearle, where Beta walks alone,
And we will pave her Summer Bower with the rich Indian stone,
Perfume the Ayre and make it sweet,
For such a Goddesse as is meet,
For it her Eyes for purity contend with Titans Light,
No marvaile then although their Beames doe dazle humane sight.
Sound lowde your Trumpets then from Londons loftiest Towers,
To beate the stormie Tempests back, and calme the raging Showers,
Set the Cornet with the Flute,
The Orpharion to the Lute,
Tuning the Taber and the Pipe to the sweet Violons,
And mocke the Thunder in the Ayre with the lowd Clarions.
Beta , long may thine Altars smoke with yeerely Sacrifice,
And long thy sacred Temples may their high Dayes solemnize,
Thy Shepheards watch by Day and Night,
Thy Mayds attend thy holy Light,
And thy large Empire stretch her Armes from East in to the West,
And Albion on the Appenines advance her conquering Crest. ROWLAND .
Stay, Thames , to heare my Song, thou great and famous Flood,
Beta alone the Phoenix is of all thy watry Brood,
The Queene of Virgins onely Shee,
The King of Floods allotting Thee
Of all the rest, be joyfull then to see this happy Day,
Thy Beta now alone shall be the Subject of my Lay.
With daintie and delightsome straynes of dapper Verilayes:
Come lovely Shepheards, sit by me, to tell our Beta's prayse,
And let us sing so high a Verse,
Her soveraigne Vertues to rehearse:
That little Birds shall silent sit to heare us Shepheards sing,
Whilst Rivers backward bend their course, and flow up to their spring.
Range all thy Swans, faire Thames , together on a ranke,
And place them each in their degree upon thy winding Banke,
And let them set together all,
Time keeping with the Waters fall:
And crave the tunefull Nightingale to helpe them with her Lay,
The Woosell and the Throstle-Cocke , chief musike of our May.
See what a troupe of Nymphs, come leading Hand in Hand,
In such a number that well-neere they take up all the Strand:
And harke how merrily they sing,
That makes the Neigh'bring Meddowes ring,
And Beta comes before alone, clad in a purple Pall,
And as the Queene of all the rest doth weare a Coronall.
Trim up her golden Tresses with Apollo's sacred Tree,
Whose Tutage and especiall care I wish her still to bee,
That for his Darling hath prepar'd,
A glorious Crowne as her reward,
Not such a golden Crowne as haughtie Caesar weares,
But such a glittering starry one as Ariadne beares.
Mayds, get the choycest Flowres, a Garland and entwine,
Nor Pinks nor Pansies let there want, be sure of Eglantine,
See that there be store of Lillyes,
(Call'd of Shepheards Daffadillyes).
With Roses Damaske, White, and Red, the dearest Flower-delice,
The Cowslip of Jerusalem , and Clove of Paradise .
O thou great Eye of Heaven, the Dayes most dearest Light,
With thy bright Sister Cynthia , the Glorie of the Night,
And those that make yee seven,
To us the neer'st of Heaven,
And thou, O gorgeous Iris , with all thy Colour dy'd,
When shee streames forth her Rayes, then dasht is all your pride.
In thee, whilst shee beholds (O Flood) her heavenly Face,
The Sea-Gods in their watry Armes would gladly her imbrace,
The intising Syrens in their layes,
And Tritons doe resound her prayse,
Hasting with all the speed they can unto the spacious Sea,
And through all Neptunes Court proclaim our Beta's holyday.
O evermore refresh the Roote of the fat Olive Tree,
In whose sweet shaddow ever may thy Banks preserved bee.
With Bayes that Poets doe adorne,
And Mirtles of chaste Lovers worne,
That faire may be the Fruit, the Boughes preserv'd by peace,
And let the mournefull Cypres die, and here for ever cease.
Weele strew the Shore with Pearle, where Beta walks alone,
And we will pave her Summer Bower with the rich Indian stone,
Perfume the Ayre and make it sweet,
For such a Goddesse as is meet,
For it her Eyes for purity contend with Titans Light,
No marvaile then although their Beames doe dazle humane sight.
Sound lowde your Trumpets then from Londons loftiest Towers,
To beate the stormie Tempests back, and calme the raging Showers,
Set the Cornet with the Flute,
The Orpharion to the Lute,
Tuning the Taber and the Pipe to the sweet Violons,
And mocke the Thunder in the Ayre with the lowd Clarions.
Beta , long may thine Altars smoke with yeerely Sacrifice,
And long thy sacred Temples may their high Dayes solemnize,
Thy Shepheards watch by Day and Night,
Thy Mayds attend thy holy Light,
And thy large Empire stretch her Armes from East in to the West,
And Albion on the Appenines advance her conquering Crest.
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