Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LORDS' MASQUE: A SONG AND DANCE TRIUMPHANT OF THE MASQUERS, by THOMAS CAMPION


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THE LORDS' MASQUE: A SONG AND DANCE TRIUMPHANT OF THE MASQUERS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Dance, dance, and visit now the shadowes
Last Line: So let good night present excuse.


1.

Dance, dance! and visit now the shadows of our joy,
All in height, and pleasing state, your changed forms employ.
And as the bird of Jove salutes with lofty wing the morn,
So mount, so fly, these trophies to adorn.
Grace them with all the sounds and motions of delight,
Since all the earth cannot express a lovelier sight.
View them with triumph, and in shades the truth adore:
No pomp or sacrifice can please Jove's greatness more.

2.

Turn, turn! and honour now the life these figures bear:
Lo, how heav'nly natures far above all art appear!
Let their aspects revive in you the fire that shined so late,
Still mount and still retain your heavenly state.
Gods were with dance and with music served of old,
Those happy days derived their glorious style from gold:
This pair, by Hymen joined, grace you with measures then,
Since they are both divine and you are more than men.

Orph. Let here Sibylla's trophy stand,
Lead her now by either hand,
That she may approach yet nearer,
And the bride and bridegroom hear her
Bless them in her native tongue,
Wherein old prophecies she sung,
Which time to light hath brought.
She speaks that which Jove hath taught:
Well may he inspire her now,
To make a joyful and true vow.
Sib. Sponsam sponse toro tene pudicam,
Sponsum sponsa tene toro pudicum.
Non haec unica nox datur beatis,
At vos perpetuo haec beabit una
Prole multiplici, parique amore.
Laeta, ac vera refert Sibylla; ab alto
Ipse Juppiter annuit loquenti.
Pro. So be it ever, joy and peace,
And mutual love give you increase,
That your posterity may grow
In fame, as long as seas do flow.
Enth. Live you long to see your joys,
In fair nymphs and princely boys;
Breeding like the garden flowers,
Which kind heav'n draws with her warm showers
Orph. Enough of blessing, though too much
Never can be said to such;
But night doth waste, and Hymen chides,
Kind to bridegrooms and to brides.
Then, singing, the last dance induce,
So let good night present excuse.





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