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thomas campion - to his sweet lute lyrics

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to his sweet lute apollo sung the motions of the spheares;
the wondrous order of the stars, whose course divides the yeares:
and all the mysteries above;
but none of this could midas move
which purchast him his asseseares

the pan with his rude pipe began the country+wealth t’advance;
to boast of cattle, flocks of sheepe and goates, on hils that dance
with much more of this chulrlish kinde:
that quite transported midas minde
and held him rapt as in a trance

this wrong the god of musicke scorned from such a scottish judge
and bent his angry bow at pan, which made the piper trudge:
then midas head he did so trim
that ev’ra age yet talkes of him
and phoebus right revenged grudge

- thomas campion lyrics

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