_Clor_. Young Shepherdess now ye are brought again To Virgin state, be so, and so remain To thy last day, unless the faithful love Of some good Shepherd force thee to remove; Th[e]n labour to be true to him, and live As such a one, that ever strives to give A blessed memory to after time. Be famous for your good, not for your crime. Now holy man, I offer up again These patients full of health, and free from pain: Keep them from after ills, be ever near Unto their actions, teach them how to clear The tedious way they pass through, from suspect, Keep them from wronging others, or neglect Of duty in themselves, correct the bloud With thrifty bits and labour, let the floud, Or the next neighbouring spring give remedy To greedy thirst, and travel not the tree That hangs with wanton clusters, [let] not wine, Unless in sacrifice, or rites divine, Be ever known of Shepherd, have a care Thou man of holy life. Now do not spare Their faults through much remissness, nor forget To cherish him, whose many pains and swet Hath giv'n increase, and added to the downs. Sort all your Shepherds from the lazy clowns That feed their Heifers in the budded Brooms: Teach the young Maidens strictness, that the grooms May ever fear to tempt their blowing youth; Banish all complements, but single truth From every tongue, and every Shepherds heart, Let them still use perswading, but no Art: Thus holy _Priest_, I wish to thee and these, All the best goods and comforts that may please. _Alex_. And all those blessings Heaven did ever give, We pray upon this Bower may ever live. _Priest_. Kneel every Shepherd, whilest with powerful hand I bless your after labours, and the Land You feed your flocks upon. Great _Pan_ defend you From misfortune, and amend you, Keep you from those dangers still, That are followed by your will, Give ye means to know at length All your riches, all your strength, Cannot keep your foot from falling To lewd lust, that still is calling At your Cottage, till his power Bring again that golden hour Of peace and rest to every soul. May his care of you controul All diseases, sores or pain That in after time may raign Either in your flocks or you, Give ye all affections new, New desires, and tempers new, That ye may be ever true. Now rise and go, and as ye pass away Sing to the God of Sheep, that happy lay, That honest _Dorus_ taught ye, _Dorus_, he That was the soul and god of melodie. The SONG. [_They all Sing All ye woods, and trees and bowers, All you vertues and ye powers That inhabit in the lakes, In the pleasant springs or brakes, Move your feet To our sound, Whilest we greet All this ground, With his honour and his name That defends our flocks from blame.