English drama -- 17th century; English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700
Lightly rise, and lightly fall you
In the motion of your feet:
Move not till our notes do call you;
Music makes the action sweet.
Music breathing blows the fire
Which Cupids feeds with fuel,
Kindling honour and desire,
And taming hearts most cruel.
Quickly, quickly, mend your paces,
Nimbly changing measured graces:
Lively mounted high aspire,
For joy is only found in fire.
Music is the soul of measure,
Mixing both in equal grace;
Twins are they, begot of Pleasure,
When she wisely numbered space.
Nothing is more old or newer
Then number, all advancing;
And no number can be truer
Than music joined with dancing.
Every Knight elect a Beauty,
Such as may thy heart inflame:
Think that her bright eye doth view thee,
And to her thy action frame.
So shall none be faint or weary,
Though treading endless paces;
For they all are light and merry
Whose hopes are fed with graces.
Sprightly, sprightly, end your paces,
Nimbly changing measured graces:
Lively mounted high aspire,
For joy is only found in fire.
OBSCURITY.
Servants of Love, for so it fits you be,
Since he alone hath wrought your liberty,
His ceremonies now and courtly rites
Perform with care, and free resolved sprites.
To sullen darkness my dull steps reflect;
All covet that which Nature doth affect.
_The Second Measure; which danc'd,_
SONG TO TAKE OUT THE LADIES.
On, on, brave Knights, you have well showed
Each his due part in nimble dances:
These Beauties to whose hands are owed
Yours, wonder why
You spare to try.
Mark how inviting are their glances.
Such, such a charm, such faces, such a call,
Would make old Æson skip about the Hall.
See, see fair choice, a starry sphere
Might dim bright day: choose here at pleasure.
Please your own eye: approve you here,
Right gentle Knights:
To these soft wights
View, talk and touch, but all in measure.
Far far from hence be roughness, far a frown;
Your fair deportment this fair night shall crown.
_After they have danced with the Ladies, and set them in
their places, fall to their last Dance._
_Enter_ PARADOX, _and to him his Disciples_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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