SYRINX.

AN'S Syrinx was a girl indeed,

PAN'S

Though now she's turned into a reed;

From that dear reed Pan's pipe does come,

A pipe that strikes Apollo dumb;
Nor flute, nor lute, nor gittern can
So chant it as the pipe of Pan :
Cross-gartered swains and dairy girls,
With faces smug and round as pearls,
When Pan's shrill pipe begins to play,
With dancing wear out night and day;
The bagpipe's drone his hum lays by,
When Pan sounds up his minstrelsy;
His minstrelsy! O base! this quill,
Which at my mouth with wind I fill,
Puts me in mind, though her I miss,
That still my Syrinx' lips I kiss.

SONG TO APOLLO.

SING to Apollo, god of day,

Whose golden beams with morning play,

And make her eyes so brightly shine,

Aurora's face is called divine;

Sing to Phoebus and that throne
Of diamonds which he sits upon.
Io, pæans let us sing

To Physic's and to Poesy's king!

Crown all his altars with bright fire,
Laurels bind about his lyre,
A Daphnean coronet for his head,
The Muses dance about his bed;
When on his ravishing lute he plays,
Strew his temple round with bays.
Io, pæans let us sing

To the glittering Delian king!

From JOHN LYLY'S
Bombie, 1594.

Mother

IO, BACCHUS !

Omnes.

I.

O, Bacchus! To thy table

1%

Thou call'st every drunken rabble;
We already are stiff drinkers,

Then seal us for thy jolly skinkers.1

Wine, O wine,

O juice divine,

How dost thou the nowle 2 refine!

2. Plump thou mak'st men's ruby faces,

And from girls canst fetch embraces.
3. By thee our noses swell

With sparkling carbuncle.
4. O the dear blood of grapes
Turns us to antic shapes,
Now to show tricks like apes,

1. Now lion-like to roar,
2. Now goatishly to whore,
3. Now hoggishly i' th' mire,
4. Now flinging hats i' th' fire.
Omnes. Io, Bacchus at thy table,
Make us of thy reeling rabble.

1 Drawers, tapsters.

2 Head, wits.

LOVE'S COLLEGE.

CUPID! monarch over kings,
Wherefore hast thou feet and wings?

It is to show how swift thou art,

When thou woundest a tender heart!
Thy wings being clipped, and feet held still,
Thy bow so many could not kill.

It is all one in Venus' wanton school,
Who highest sits, the wise man or the fool.
Fools in love's college

Have far more knowledge

To read a woman over,

Than a neat prating lover :

Nay, 'tis confessed,

That fools please women best.

From GEORGE PEELE's The
Arraignment of Paris, 1584.

FAIR AND FAIR, AND TWICE SO FAIR.

Enone.

Paris.

En.

FAIR

and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be ;

The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.

Fair and fair and twice so fair,

As fair as any may be ;

Thy love is fair for thee alone,

And for no other lady.

My love is fair, my love is gay,
As fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my love my roundelay,

My merry, merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid's curse,-

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!

Ambo simul. They that do change, &c.

En.

My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry roundelays,
Amen to Cupid's curse,
They that do change, &c.

Par.

They that do change, &c.

Ambo.

Fair and fair, &c.