Song First by a Shepherd

Welcome, stranger, to this place,
Where joy doth sit on every bough;
Paleness flies from every face;
We reap not what we do not sow.

Innocent doth like a rose
Bloom on every maiden's cheek;
Honour twines around her brows;
The jewel Health adorns her neck

When silver snow decks Sylvio's clothes,

And jewel hangs at shepherd nose,

We can abide life's pelting storm,

That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

Whilst Virtue is our walking-staff,

And Truth a lantern to our path,

We can abide life's pelting storm,

That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

Blow, boisterous wind; stern winter, frown.

Innocence is a winter's gown;

So clad, we'll abide life's pelting storm,

That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.