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Poem by Thomas Heywood Hymn to Diana HAIL, beauteous Dian, queen of shades, That dwells beneath these shadowy glades, Mistress of all those beauteous maids That are by her allowed. Virginity we all profess, Abjure the worldly vain excess, And will to Dian yield no less Than we to her have vowed. The shepherds, satyrs, nymphs, and fauns For thee will trip it o'er the lawns. Come, to the forest let us go, And trip it like the barren doe: The fauns and satyrs still do so, And freely thus they may do. The fairies dance and satyrs sing, And on the grass tread many a ring, And to their caves their ven'son bring; And we will do as they do. The shepherds, satyrs, nymphs, and fauns For thee will trip it o'er the lawns. Our food is honey from the bees, And mellow fruits that drop from trees; in chase we climb the high degrees Of every steepy mountain. And when the weary day is past, We at the evening hie us fast, And after this, our field repast, We drink the pleasant fountain. The shepherds, satyrs, nymphs, and fauns For thee will trip it o'er the lawns. Thomas Heywood Thomas Heywood's other poems: 1224 Views |
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