¶ Wodenfrides Song in praise of Amargana. +
T He 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.
(5) 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, (10) 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, (15) 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, (20) To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
The fleecie Flocks doo scud and skip, The wood-Nimphs, Fawnes, and Satires trip, And daunce the Mirtle trees betweene: To glad our louely Sommer Queene.
(25) 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.