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Wodenfrides Song in praise of Amargana.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



Wodenfrides Song in praise of Amargana.

The Sunne the season in each thing
Reuiues new pleasures, the sweet Spring
Hath put to flight the Winter keene:
To glad our louely Sommer Queene
The pathes where Amargana treads,
With flowrie tap'stries Flora spreads.
And Nature cloathes the ground in greene:
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
The Groaues put on their rich aray,
With Hawthorne bloomes imbroydered gay,
And sweet perfum'd with Eglantine:
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
The silent Riuer stayes his course,
Whilst playing on the christall sourse,
The siluer scaled fish are seene,
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
The Woods at her faire sight reioyces,
The little birds with their lowd voyces,
In consort on the bryers beene,
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
The fleecie Flocks doo scud and skip,
The vvood-Nimphs, Fawnes, and Satires trip,
And daunce the Mirtle trees betweene:
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
Great Pan (our God) for her deere sake,
This feast and meeting bids vs make,
Of Sheepheards, Lads, and Lasses sheene:
To glad our louely Sheepheards Queene.


And euery Swaine his chaunce dooth proue,
To winne faire Amarganaes loue,
In sporting strifes quite voide of spleene:
To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
All happines let Heauen her lend,
And all the Graces her attend.
Thus bid me pray the Muses nine,
Long liue our louely Sommer Queene.
FINIS.
W. H.