The Masque at Lord Hay's Marriage (Apollo's Knights) · chunk 5 of 5
Campion, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1607 [Jan 6] (Annals) masque · before the Court T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses typicality 0.80 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
KNights of Apollo proud of your new birth, Pursue your triumphs still with joy and mirth, Your changed fortunes, and redeem estate Hesperus to your Sovereign will relate, 'tis now high time he were far hence retired, Th'old Bridal friend, that ushers Night desired Through the dim evening shades, then taking flight Gives place and honour to the nuptial Night. I that wish't evening star must now make way To Hymen's rights much wronged by my delay. But on night's princely state you ought t'attend, And t'honour your new reconciled friend. HEsperus as you with concord came, e'en so 'tis meet that you with concord hence should go Then join you that in voice, and art excel, To give this star a musical farewell. Of all the stars which is the kindest To a loving Bride? Hesperus when in the west He doth the day from night divide. What message can be more respected Than that which tells wish't joys shallbe effected? Do not Brides watch the evening star? O they can discern it far: Love bridegrooms revels? But for fashion. And why? They hinder wished occasion. Longing hearts and new delights, Love short days, and long nights HEsperus since you all stars excel In Bridal kindness kindly farewell farewell. COme Flora let us now withdraw our train That th'eclipsed revels may shine forth again HEre stay, Night leaden-eyed, and sprighted grows And her late hours begin to hang their brows Hymen long since the Bridal bed hath dressed, And longs to bring the turtles to their nest. Then with one quick dence sound up your delight, And with one song we'll bid you all god-Night. TEll me gentle hour of night Wherein dost thou most delight? Not in sleep, Wherein then? In the frolic view of men? lovest thou music? O 'tis sweet. What's dancing? e'en the mirth of feet joy you in Fairies and idleness? We are of that sore ourselves, But Siluan say why do you love Only to frequent the grove? Life is fullest of content Where delight is innocent. Pleasure must vary not be long, Come then let's close, and end our song. YEt ere we vanish from this princely sight, Let us bid Phoebus, & his states goodnight Neither buskin now, nor bays Challenge I, a Lady's praise Shall content my proudest hope, Their applause was all my scope And to their shrines properly Revels dedicated be: Whose soft ears none ought to pierce But with smooth and gentle verse, Let the tragic Poem swell, Raising raging fiends from hell, And let Epic Dactyls range Swelling seas and country's strange. Little room small things contains Easy praise quites easy pains. Suffer them whose brows do sweat To gain honour by the great. It's enough if men me name A Retailer of such fame. Quid tu te numeris immisces? anne medentem Metra cathedratum ludicra scripta decent Musicus & medicus, celebris quoque Phoebe Poeta e Et lepor aegrotos arte rogante juuat. Crede mihi doctum qui carmen non sapit, idem Non habet ingentum, nec genium medici.
seed 43: T29 · seed 44: T27 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
KNights of Apollo proude of your new birth, Pursue your triumphs still with ioy and mirth, Your changed fortunes, and redeemd estate Hesperus to your Soueraigne will relate, T'is now high time he were far hence retir'd, Th'ould Bridall friend, that vshers Night desir'd Through the dimme euening shades, then taking flight Giues place and honour to the nuptiall Night. I that wish't euening starre must now make way To Hymens rights much wrong'd by my delay. But on Nights princely state you ought t'attend, And t'honour your new reconciled frind. HEsperus as you with concord came, eu'n so T'is meet that you with cōcord hence shold go Then ioyne you that in voice, and art excell, To giue this starre a musicall farewell. Of all the starres which is the kindest To a louing Bride? Hesperus when in the west He doth the day from night deuide. What message can be more respected Then that which tells wish't ioyes shalbe effected? Do not Brides watch the euening starre? O they can discerne it farre: Loue Bridegroomes reuels? But for fashion. And why? They hinder wisht occasion. Longing hearts and new delights, Loue short dayes, and long nights HEsperus since you all starres excell In Bridall kindnes kindly farewell farewell. COme Flora let vs now withdraw our traine That th'ecclipst reuels maie shine forth againe HEre stay, Night leaden-eied, and sprighted growes And her late houres begin to hang their browes Hymen long since the Bridall bed hath drest, And longs to bring the turtles to their nest. Then with one quick dence sound vp your delight, And with one song weele bid you all god-Night. TEll me gentle howre of night Wherein dost thou most delight? Not in sleepe, Wherein then? In the frolicke vew of men? Louest thou musicke? O t'is sweet. Whats dauncing? Eu'n the mirth of feete Ioy you in Fayries and idelues? We are of that sore our selues, But Siluan say whie do you loue Onely to frequent the groue? Life is fullest of content Where delight is innocent. Pleasure must varie not be long, Come then lets close, and end our song. YEt ere we vanish from this princely sight, Let vs bid Phoebus, & his states god-night Neither buskin now, norbayes Challenge I, a Ladies prayse Shall content my proudest hope, Their applause was all my scope And to their shrines properly Reuels dedicated be: Whose soft eares none ought to pierce But with smooth and gentle verse, Let the tragicke Poeme swell, Raysing raging seendes from hell, And let Epicke Dactils range Swelling seas and Countries strange. Little roome small things containes Easy praise quites easy paines. Suffer them whose browes do sweat To gaine honour by the great. It s enough if men me name A Retailer of such fame. Quid tu te numeris immises? anne medente Metra cathedratum ludicra scripta decent Musicus & medicus, celebris quoque Phoebe Poeta e Et lepor aegrotos arte rogante iuat. Crede mihi doctum qui carmen non sapit, idem Non habet ingentum, nec genium medici.