Moue now with measured sound,
You charmed groue of gould,
Trace forth the sacred ground
That shall your formes vnfold.
Diana, and the starry night for your Apollos sake
Endue your Siluan shapes with powre this strange delight to make.
Much ioy must needs the place betide where trees for gladnes moue,
A fairer sight was nere beheld, or more expressing loue.
Yet neerer Phoebus throne
Mete on your winding waies,
Your Brydall mirth make knowne
In your high-graced Hayes.
Let Hymen lead your sliding rounds, and guide them with his light,
While we do Io Hymen sing in honour of this night
Ioyne three by three, for so the night by triple spel decrees
Now to release Apollos knights from these enchanted trees.
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