the shepherds' holyday - arthur bliss lyrics
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thus, thus begin the yearly rites
are due to pan on these bright nights;
his morn now riseth and invites
to sports, to dances, and delights:
all envious and profane, away
this is the shepherds’ holyday
strew, strew the glad and smiling ground
with every flower, yet not confound:
the primrose drop, the spring’s own spouse
bright day’s*eyes and the lips of cows;
the garden*star, the queen of may
the rose, to crown the holyday
drop, drop, you violets; change your hues
now red, now pale, as lovers use;
and in your death go out as well
as when you lived unto the smell:
that from your odour all may say
this is the shepherds’ holyday
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