I
He. Aglai-a! Aglai-a!
Sweet, awaken and be glad.
She. Who is this that calls Aglaia?
Is it thou, my dearest lad?
He. 'Tis Arion, 'tis Arion,
Who calls thee from sleep-
From slumber who bids thee
To follow and number
His kids and his sheep.
She. Nay, leave to entreat me!
If mother should spy on
Us twain, she would beat me.
He. Then come, my love, come!
And hide with Arion
Where green woods are dumb!
She. Ar-i-on! Ar-i-on!
Closer, list! I am afraid!
He. Whisper, then, thy love Arion,
From thy window, lily maid.
She. Yet Aglaia, yet Aglaia
Hath heard them debate
Of wooing repenting-
"Who trust to undoing,
Lament them too late."
He. Nay, nay, when I woo thee,
Thy mother might spy on
All harm I shall do thee.
She. I come, then-I come!
To follow Arion
Where green woods be dumb.
SONG
Sparrow of Love, so sharp to peck,
Arrow of Love-I bare my neck
Down to the bosom. See, no fleck
Of blood! I have never a wound; I go
Forth to the greenwood. Yet, heigh-ho!
What 'neath my girdle flutters so?
'Tis not a bird, and yet hath wings,
'Tis not an arrow, yet it stings;
While in the wound it nests and sings-
Heigh-ho!
He. Of Arion, of Arion
That wound thou shalt learn;
What nothings 'tis made of,
And soft pretty soothings
In shade of the fern.
She. When maids have a mind to,
Man's word they rely on,
Old warning are blind to-
I come, then-I come
To walk with Arion
Where green woods are dumb!
II
He. Dear my love, and O my love,
And O my love so lately!
Did we wander yonder grove
And sit awhile sedately?
For either you did there conclude
To do at length as I did,
Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude,
And troth's an oath derided.
She. Yea, my love-and nay, my love-
And ask me not to tell, love,
While I delay'd an idle day
What 'twixt us there befell, love.
Yet either I did sit beside
And do at length as you did,
Or my delight is lightly by
An idle lie deluded!
