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lirik lagu micheál macliammóir - epithalamion

ye learned sisters which have oftentimes
beene to me ayding, others to adorne:
whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes
that even the greatest did not greatly scorne
to heare theyr names sung in your simple layes
but joyed in theyr prayse
and when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne
which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse
your string could soone to sadder tenor turne
and teach the woods and waters to lament
your dolefull dreriment
now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside
and having all your heads with girland crownd
helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound
ne let the same of any be envide:
so orpheus did for his owne bride
so i unto my selfe alone will sing
the woods shall to me answer and my eccho ring

early before the worlds light giving lampe
his golden beame upon the hils doth spred
having disperst the nights unchearefull dampe
doe ye awake, and with fresh l~sty hed
go to the bowre of my beloved love
my truest turtle dove
bid her awake; for hymen is awake
and long since ready forth his maske to move
with his bright tead that flames with many a flake
and many a bachelor to waite on him
in theyr fresh garments trim
bid her awake therefore and soone her dight
for lo the wished day is come at last
that shall for al the paynes and sorrowes past
pay to her usury of long delight:
and whylest she doth her dight
doe ye to her of joy and solace sing
that all the woods may answer and your eccho ring
bring with you all the nymphes that you can heare
both of the rivers and the forrests greene:
and of the sea that neighbours to her neare
al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene
and let them also with them bring in hand
another gay girland
for my fayre love of lillyes and of roses
bound truelove wize with a blew silke riband
and let them make great store of bridale poses
and let them eeke bring store of other flowers
to deck the bridale bowers
and let the ground whereas her foot shall tread
for feare the stones her tender foot should wrong
be strewed with fragrant flowers all along
and diapred lyke the discolored mead
which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt
for she will waken strayt
the whiles doe ye this song unto her sing
the woods shall to you answer and your eccho ring

ye nymphes of mulla which with carefull heed
the silver scaly trouts doe tend full well
and greedy pikes which use therein to feed
(those trouts and pikes all others doo excell)
and ye likewise which keepe the rushy lake
where none doo fishes take
bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light
and in his waters which your mirror make
behold your faces as the christall bright
that when you come whereas my love doth lie
no blemish she may spie
and eke ye lightfoot mayds which keepe the deere
that on the h~~ry mountayne use to towre
and the wylde wolves which seeke them to devoure
with your steele darts doo chace from comming neer
be also present heere
to helpe to decke her and to help to sing
that all the woods may answer and your eccho ring
wake, now my love, awake; for it is time
the rosy morne long since left tithones bed
all ready to her silver coche to clyme
and phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed
hark how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies
and carroll of loves praise
the merry larke hir mattins sings aloft
the thrush replyes, the mavis descant playes
the ouzell shrills, the ruddock warbles soft
so goodly all agree with sweet consent
to this dayes merriment
ah my deere love why doe ye sleepe thus long
when meeter were that ye should now awake
t’awayt the comming of your joyous make
and hearken to the birds lovelearned song
the deawy leaves among
for they of joy and pleasance to you sing
that all the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring

my love is now awake out of her dreames
and her fayre eyes like stars that dimmed were
with darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beames
more bright then hesperus his head doth rere
come now ye damzels, daughters of delight
helpe quickly her to dight
but first come ye fayre houres which were begot
in joves sweet paradice, of day and night
which doe the seasons of the yeare allot
and al that ever in this world is fayre
doe make and still repayre
and ye three handmayds of the cyprian queene
the which doe still adorne her beauties pride
helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
and as ye her array, still throw betweene
some graces to be seene
and as ye use to venus, to her sing
the whiles the woods shal answer and your eccho ring
now is my love all ready forth to come
let all the virgins therefore well awayt
and ye fresh boyes that tend upon her groome
prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt
set all your things in seemely good aray
fit for so joyfull day
the joyfulst day that ever sunne did see
faire sun, shew forth thy favourable ray
and let thy lifull heat not fervent be
for feare of burning her sunshyny face
her beauty to disgrace
o fayrest phoebus, father of the muse
if ever i did honour thee aright
or sing the thing, that mote thy mind delight
doe not thy servants simple boone refuse
but let this day let this one day be myne
let all the rest be thine
then i thy soverayne prayses loud will sing
that all the woods shal answer and theyr eccho ring

harke how the minstrels gin to shrill aloud
their merry musick that resounds from far
the pipe, the tabor, and the trembling croud
that well agree withouten breach or jar
but most of all the damzels doe delite
when they their tymbrels smyte
and thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet
that all the sences they doe ravish quite
the whyles the boyes run up and downe the street
crying aloud with strong confused noyce
as if it were one voyce
hymen io hymen, hymen they do shout
that even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill
doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill
to which the people standing all about
as in approvance doe thereto applaud
and loud advaunce her laud
and evermore they hymen hymen sing
that al the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring

loe where she comes along with portly pace
lyke phoebe from her chamber of the east
arysing forth to run her mighty race
clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best
so well it her beseemes that ye would weene
some angell she had beene
her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre
sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres a tweene
doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre
and being crowned with a girland greene
seeme lyke some mayden queene
her modest eyes abashed to behold
so many gazers, as on her do stare
upon the lowly ground affixed are
ne dare lift up her countenance too bold
but blush to heare her prayses sung so loud
so farre from being proud
nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing
that all the woods may answer and your eccho ring

tell me ye merchants daughters did ye see
so fayre a creature in your towne before?
so sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she
adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store
her goodly eyes lyke saphyres shining bright
her forehead yvory white
her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded
her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte
her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded
her paps lyke lyllies budded
her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre
and all her body like a pallace fayre
ascending uppe with many a stately stayre
to honors seat and chastities sweet bowre
why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze
upon her so to gaze
whiles ye forget your former lay to sing
to which the woods did answer and your eccho ring

but if ye saw that which no eyes can see
the inward beauty of her lively spright
garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree
much more then would ye wonder at that sight
and stand astonisht lyke to those which red
medusaes mazeful hed
there dwels sweet love and constant chastity
unspotted fayth and comely womenhed
regard of honour and mild modesty
there vertue raynes as queene in royal throne
and giveth lawes alone
the which the base affections doe obay
and yeeld theyr services unto her will
ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill
had ye once seene these her celestial threasures
and unrevealed pleasures
then would ye wonder and her prayses sing
that al the woods should answer and your eccho ring

open the temple gates unto my love
open them wide that she may enter in
and all the postes adorne as doth behove
and all the pillours deck with girlands trim
for to recyve this saynt with honour dew
that commeth in to you
with trembling steps and humble reverence
she commeth in, before th’almighties vew:
of her ye virgins learne obedience
when so ye come into those holy places
to humble your proud faces;
bring her up to th’high altar that she may
the sacred ceremonies there partake
the which do endlesse matrimony make
and let the roring organs loudly play
the praises of the lord in lively notes
the whiles with hollow throates
the choristers the joyous antheme sing
that al the woods may answere and their eccho ring

behold whiles she before the altar stands
hearing the holy priest that to her speakes
and blesseth her with his two happy hands
how the red roses flush up in her cheekes
and the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne
like crimsin dyde in grayne
that even th’angels which continually
about the sacred altare doe remaine
forget their service and about her fly
ofte peeping in her face that seemes more fayre
the more they on it stare
but her sad eyes still fastened on the ground
are governed with goodly modesty
that suffers not one looke to glaunce awry
which may let in a little thought unsownd
why blush ye love to give to me your hand
the pledge of all our band?
sing ye sweet angels, alleluya sing
that all the woods may answere and your eccho ring

now al is done; bring home the bride againe
bring home the triumph of our victory
bring home with you the glory of her gaine
with joyance bring her and with jollity
never had man more joyfull day then this
whom heaven would heape with blis
make feast therefore now all this live long day
this day for ever to me holy is
poure out the wine without restraint or stay
poure not by cups, but by the belly full
poure out to all that wull
and sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine
that they may sweat, and drunken be withall
crowne ye god bacchus with a coronall
and hymen also crowne with wreathes of vine
and let the graces daunce unto the rest;
for they can doo it best:
the whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing
to which the woods shal answer and theyr eccho ring

ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne
and leave your wonted labors for this day:
this day is holy; doe ye write it downe
that ye for ever it remember may
this day the sunne is in his chiefest hight
with barnaby the bright
from whence declining daily by degrees
he somewhat loseth of his heat and light
when once the crab behind his back he sees
but for this time it ill ordained was
to chose the longest day in all the yeare
and shortest night, when longest fitter weare:
yet never day so long, but late would passe
ring ye the bels, to make it weare away
and bonefiers make all day
and daunce about them, and about them sing:
that all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring

ah when will this long weary day have end
and lende me leave to come unto my love?
how slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend?
how slowly does sad time his feathers move?
hast thee o fayrest planet to thy home
within the westerne fome:
thy tyred steedes long since have need of rest
long though it be, at last i see it gloome
and the bright evening star with golden creast
appeare out of the east
fayre childe of beauty, glorious lampe of love
that all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead
and guydest lovers through the nightes dread
how chearefully thou lookest from above
and seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light
as joying in the sight
of these glad many which for joy doe sing
that all the woods them answer and their echo ring

now ceasse ye damsels your delights forepast;
enough is it, that all the day was youres:
now day is doen, and night is nighing fast:
now bring the bryde into the brydall boures
now night is come, now soone her disaray
and in her bed her lay;
lay her in lillies and in violets
and silken courteins over her display
and odourd sheetes, and arras coverlets
behold how goodly my faire love does ly
in proud humility;
like unto maia, when as jove her tooke
in tempe, lying on the flowry gras
twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was
with bathing in the acidalian brooke
now it is night, ye damsels may be gon
and leave my love alone
and leave likewise your former lay to sing:
the woods no more shal answere, nor your echo ring

now welcome night, thou night so long expected
that long daies labour doest at last defray
and all my cares, which cruell love collected
hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye:
spread thy broad wing over my love and me
that no man may us see
and in thy sable mantle us enwrap
from feare of perrill and foule horror free
let no false treason seeke us to entrap
nor any dread disquiet once annoy
the safety of our joy:
but let the night be calme and quietsome
without tempestuous storms or sad afray:
lyke as when jove with fayre alcmena lay
when he begot the great tirynthian groome:
or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie
and begot majesty
and let the mayds and yongmen cease to sing:
ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring

let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares
be heard all night within nor yet without:
ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares
breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout
let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights
make sudden sad affrights;
ne let housefyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes
ne let the pouke, nor other evill sprights
ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes
ne let hob goblins, names whose sence we see not
fray us with things that be not
let not the shriech oule, nor the storke be heard:
nor the night raven that still deadly yels
nor d~mned ghosts cald up with mighty spels
nor griesly vultures make us once affeard:
ne let th’unpleasant quyre of frogs still croking
make us to wish theyr choking
let none of these theyr drery accents sing;
ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring

but let stil silence trew night watches keepe
that sacred peace may in assurance rayne
and tymely sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe
may poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne
the whiles an hundred little winged loves
like divers fethered doves
shall fly and flutter round about your bed
and in the secret darke, that none reproves
their prety stelthes shal worke, and snares shal spread
to filch away sweet sn~tches of delight
conceald through covert night
ye sonnes of venus, play your sports at will
for greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes
thinks more upon her paradise of joyes
then what ye do, albe it good or ill
all night therefore attend your merry play
for it will soone be day:
now none doth hinder you, that say or sing
ne will the woods now answer, nor your eccho ring

who is the same, which at my window peepes?
or whose is that faire face, that shines so bright
is it not cinthia, she that never sleepes
but walkes about high heaven al the night?
o fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy
my love with me to spy:
for thou likewise didst love, though now unthought
and for a fleece of woll, which privily
the latmian shephard once unto thee brought
his pleasures with thee wrought
therefore to us be favorable now;
and sith of wemens labours thou hast charge
and generation goodly dost enlarge
encline thy will t’effect our wishfull vow
and the chast wombe informe with timely seed
that may our comfort breed:
till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing
ne let the woods us answere, nor our eccho ring

and thou great juno, which with awful might
the lawes of wedlock still dost patronize
and the religion of the faith first plight
with sacred rites hast taught to solemnize:
and eeke for comfort often called art
of women in their smart
eternally bind thou this lovely band
and all thy blessings unto us impart
and thou glad g~nius, in whose gentle hand
the bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine
without blemish or staine
and the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight
with secret ayde doest succour and supply
till they bring forth the fruitfull progeny
send us the timely fruit of this same night
and thou fayre hebe, and thou hymen free
grant that it may so be
til which we cease your further prayse to sing
ne any woods shal answer, nor your eccho ring

and ye high heavens, the temple of the gods
in which a thousand torches flaming bright
doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods
in dreadful darknesse lend desired light;
and all ye powers which in the same remayne
more then we men can fayne
poure out your blessing on us plentiously
and happy influence upon us raine
that we may raise a large posterity
which from the earth, which they may long possesse
with lasting happinesse
up to your haughty pallaces may mount
and for the guerdon of theyr 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 tymely joyes to sing
the woods no more us answer, nor our eccho ring

song made in lieu of many ornaments
with which my love should duly have bene dect
which cutting off through hasty accidents
ye would not stay your dew time to expect
but promist both to recompens
be unto her a goodly ornament
and for short time an endlesse moniment

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