Wodenfride's Song in praise of Amargana

The sun, the season, in each thing
Revives new pleasures, the sweet spring
Hath put to flight the winter keen.
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The paths where Amargana treads
With flow'ry tap'stries Flora spreads.
And Nature clothes the ground in green.
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The groves put on their rich array,
With hawthorn blooms embroider'd gay;
And sweet perfumed with eglantine,
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The silent river stays his course,
Whilst playing on the crystal source;
The silver scaled fish are seen
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The woods at her fair sight rejoices
The little birds with their loud voices
In concert on the briars been.
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The fleecy flocks do scud and skip.
The wood-nymphs, fauns, and satyrs tri
And dance the myrtle trees between,
To glad our lovely summer queen.

Great Fan, our god, for her dear sake.
This feast and meeting bids us make,
Of shepherds, lads, and lasses sheen.
To glad our lovely summer queen.

And every swain his chance doth prove,
To win fair Amargana's love;
In sporting strife, quite void of spleen.
To glad our lovely summer queen.

All happiness let heaven her lend.
And all the Graces her attend;
Thus bid me pray the Muses Nine,
Long live our lovely summer queen.