AIRS SUNG AT BROUGHAM CASTLE: SHADOWS by THOMAS CAMPION

The shadows dark'ning our intents
Must fade, and Truth now take her place,
Who in our right Egyptian race
A chain of prophecy presents,
With which the starry sky consents,
And all the under elements.
Thou, that art all divine, give ear
And grace our humble songs,
That speak what to thy state belongs,
Unmasked now and clear,
Which we in several strains divide,
And heavenborn Truth our notes shall guide,
One by one while we relate
That which shall tie both Time and Fate.
Truth sprung from Heaven shall shine
With her beams divine
On all thy land,
And there for ever steadfast stand:
Lovely peace,
Spring of increase,
Shall like a precious gem
Adorn thy royal diadem;
Love that binds
Loyal minds
Shall make all hearts agree
To magnify thy state and thee.
Honour, that proceeds
Out of noble deeds,
Shall wait on thee alone,
And cast a sacred light about thy throne.
Long shall thy three crowns remain
Blessed in thy long-lived reign;
Thy age shall like fresh youth appear
And perpetual roses bear;
Many on earth thy days shall be,
But endless thy posterity.
Truth, Peace, Love, Honour and long life attend
Thee and all those that from their loins descend.
With us the angels in this chorus meet;
So, humbly prostrate at thy sacred feet,
Our nightly sports and prophecies we end.

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