Classic Poem

Goe, happy man, like th' Evening Starre,
Whose beames to Bride-groomes well-come are:
May neither Hagge nor Feind withstand
The pow're of thy Victorious Hand.
The Uncharm'd Knights surrender now,
By vertue of thy raised Bough.

Away, Enchauntements, Vanish quite,
No more delay our longing sight:
'Tis fruitelesse to contend with Fate,
Who gives us pow're against your hate.
Brave Knights, in Courtly pompe appeare,
For now are you long-look't for heere.
The Squire lifts up the Bough .
CHORUS.

Vertue and Grace, in spight of Charmes,
Have now redeem'd our men at Armes.
Ther's no inchauntement can withstand,
Where Fate directs the happy hand.

The Maskers first Daunce .
The third Song of three partes, with a Chorus of five partes, sung after the first Daunce .