Hold Back Thy Hours

Hold back thy hours, dark Night, till we have done;
    The Day will come too soon.
Young maids will curse thee, if thou steal'st away
And leav'st their losses open to the day.
    Stay, stay, and hide
    The blushes of the bride.

Stay, gentle Night, and with thy darkness cover
    The kisses of her lover.
Stay, and confound her tears and her shrill cryings,
Her weak denials, vows, and often-dyings;
    Stay, and hide all:
    But help not, though she call.

Lyaeus

God Lyaeus, ever young,
Ever honour'd, ever sung,
Stain'd with blood of lusty grapes,
In a thousand lusty shapes
Dance upon the mazer's brim,
In the crimson liquor swim;
From thy plenteous hand divine
Let a river run with wine:
    God of youth, let this day here
    Enter neither care nor fear.