From "Arion," an unpublished Masque

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.