Dance now and sing; the joy and love we owe

Dance now and sing; the joy and love we owe
Let cheerful voices and glad gestures show:
The Queen of grace is she whom we receive:
Honour and state are her guides,
Her presence they can never leave.
Then in a stately sylvan form salute
Her ever-flowing grace;
Fill all the woods with echoed welcomes,
And strew with flowers this place;
Let ev'ry bough and plant fresh blossoms yield,
And all the air refine:
Let pleasure strive to please our goddess,
For she is all divine.

Yet once again let us our measures move,
And with sweet notes record our joyful love.
An object more divine none ever had:
Beauty, and heav'n-born worth,
Mixt in perfection never fade.
Then with a dance triumphant let us sing
Her high advanced praise,
And ev'n to heav'n our gladsome welcomes
With wings of music raise;
Welcome, O welcome, ever-honoured Queen,
To this now-blessed place!
That grove, that bower, that house is happy
Which you vouchsafe to grace.