Arise, awake

Arise, awake, awake,

You silly shepherds sleeping;

Devise some honour for her sake

By mirth to banish weeping.

See where she comes, lo where,

In gaudy green arraying,

A pince of beauty rich and rare

Pretends to go a-maying.

You stately nymphs draw near

And strew your paths with roses;

In you her trust reposes.

Then sang the shepherds and nymphs of Diana:

Long live fair Oriana.