song Fauc First.[Chorus.
Endymion.
Luna.]Chorus.
Th' Astrologers own Eyes are set,
And even Wolves the Sheep forget;
Only this Shepherd, late and soon,
Upon this Hill outwakes the Moon.
Heark how he sings, with sad delight,
Thorough the clear and silent Night.
Cynthia,
O Cynthia, turn thine Ear,nor scorn Endymions plaints to hear.
As we our Flocks, so you
The fleecy Clouds with silver wand.
If thou a Mortal, rather sleep;
Or if a Shepherd, watch thy Sheep.
The Shepherd, since he saw thine Eyes,
And Sheep are both thy Sacrifice.
Nor merits he a Mortal's name,
That burns with an immortal Flame.
CynthiaI have enough for me to do,
Ruling the Waves that Ebb and Flow.
Since thou disdain'st not then to
On Sublunary things thy Care;
Rather restrain these double Seas,
Mine Eyes uncessant deluges.
My wakeful Lamp all night must move,
Securing their Repose above.
If therefore thy resplendent
Can make a Night more bright then Day;
Shine thorough this obscurer Brest,
With shades of deep Despair opprest.
Chorus.
Courage,
Endymion, boldly Woo,
Anchises was a Shepheard too:
Yet is her younger Sister
Sporting with him in Ida's shade:
And Cynthia, though the strongest,
Seeks but the honour to have held out longest.
Here unto Latmos Top I climbe:
How far below thine Orbe sublime?
O why, as well as Eyes to see,
Have I not Armes that reach to thee?
Cynthia'Tis needless then that I refuse,
Would you but your own Reason use.
Though I so high may not pretend,
It is the same so you descend.
These Stars would say I do them wrong,
Rivals each one for thee too strong.
The Stars are fix'd unto their Sphere,
And cannot, though they would, come near.
Less Loves set of each others praise,
While Stars Eclypse by mixing Rayes.
That Cave is dark.
Then none can spy:
Or shine Thou there and 'tis the Sky.
Chorus.
Joy to Endymion,
For he has Cynthia's favour won.
And Jove himself
With his serenest influence their Loves.
For he did never love to
His Progeny above the Air;
But to be honest, valiant, wise,
Makes Mortals matches fit for Fauc Second Song.[Hobbinol.
Phillis.
Phillis,
Tomalin, away:
Never such a merry day.
For the Northern Shepheards
Has Menalca's daughter won.
Stay till I some flow'rs
In a Garland for the Bride.
If Thou would'st a Garland bring,
Philiis you may wait the Spring:
They ha' chosen such an
When She is the only flow'r.
Let's not then at least be
Without each a Sprig of Green.
Fear not; at Menalca's
There is Bayes enough for all.
He when Young as we did graze,
But when Old he planted Bayes.
Here She comes; but with a
Far more catching then my Hook.'Twas those Eyes,
I now dare swear,
Led our Lambs we knew not where.
Not our Lambs own Fleeces
Curl'd so lovely as her Hair:
Nor our Sheep new Wash'd can
Half so white or sweet as She.
He so looks as fit to
Somewhat else then silly Sheep.
Come, lets in some Carol
Pay to Love and Them their due.
All.
Joy to that happy Pair,
Whose Hopes united banish our Despair.
What Shepheard could for Love pretend,
Whil'st all the Nymphs on Damon's choice attend?
What Shepherdess could hope to
Before Marina's turn were sped?
Now lesser Beauties may take place,
And meaner Virtues come in play;
While they,
Looking from high,
Shall
Our Flocks and us with a propitious Eye.
But what is most, the gentle
No more shall need of Love complain;
But Virtue shall be Beauties hire,
And those be equal that have equal Fire.
Or who despair, now Damon does enjoy?
Marina yields.
Who dares be coy?
Joy to that happy Pair,
Whose Hopes united banish our Despair.
