Full Lyrics
Woodmen, shepherds, come away!
This is Pan’s great holiday!
Throw off cares;
With your heavenaspiring airs,
Help us to sing
While valleys with your echoes ring.
Nymphs that dwell within these groves,
Leave your arbours, bring your loves;
Crown your golden hair with roses
As you pass.
Foot like fairies on the grasse,
Joy crown our bowers! Philomel!
Let trees dance,
As they at Thracian lyre did once;
Mountains play,
This is the shepherds’ holiday!
“School of Compliments” (1631)
