University of Virginia Library

Song.

Calliope invited to sing.

Thyrsis. Calliope.
Thyrsis.
Sing divine Calliope,
Enrich our Quire
With thy sweet voice and mellow Lyre,
And Gods that listen to the sound,
While Orbes walke their harmonious Round,
Shall learne to tune their Spheares by thee.

Calliope.
Ah me, I cannot sing,
No chearefull note
Can cleare my sad untuned throat,
And then my Lute is so decayd,
Satyrs will start and be afraid,
At the wild discord of the string.

Thyrsis.
On yonder trembling bough,
Sad Philomel,
Her cheape and frequent tale did tell,
But ravisht with thy pleasant song,
Lisp'd all thy Musicke on her tongue,
And hath forgot her story now.

Calliope.
Poore Philomel I pitty thee.
O twice deceived,
Of honour and of Tune bereav'd.
The salvage Tereus did thee wrong,
But yet he left thee still thy song,
And now thou owest that losse to me.

Thyrsis.
Faire Nymph it is no paine
To change for gaine.

Chorus.
Then let our musicke mixe their loud
Harmonious aires, and make one cloud.
That joining Tunes with Tunes we may,
Each still enjoy their owne, and each each others lay.