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L. Gibsons Tantara, wherin Danea welcommeth home her Lord Diophon from the war.

To the tune of, Down right Squire.

YOu Lordings, cast off your weedes of wo
me thinks I heare
A trumpet shril which plain doth show
my Lord is neare:
Tantara tara tantara,
this trumpet glads our hearts,
Therefore to welcome home your King,
you Lordings plaie your parts,
Tantara tara tantara, &c.

Harke harke, me thinkes I heare again,
this trumpets voice,
He is at hand this is certaine,
wherefore reioice.
Tantara tara tantara, &c.
this trumpet still doth say,
With trumpets blast, all dangers past,
doth shew in Marshall ray.
[Tantara tara tantara, &c.]

A ioifull sight my hearts delight,
my Diophon deere:
Thy comely grace, I do embrace,
with ioiful cheere:
Tantara tara tantara,
what pleasant sound is this,
Which brought to me with victorie,
my ioy and onely blisse.
Tantara tara tantara, &c.


[¶]My Queene and wife, my ioy and life
in whom I minde:
In euery part, the trustiest hart,
that man can finde.
Tantara tara tantara,
me thinks I heare your praise,
Your vertues race in euerie place,
which trumpet so doth raise.
Tantara tara tantara, &c.


Now welcome home to Siria soile,
from battered field:
That valiantly thy foes did foile,
with speare and shield:
Tantara tara tantara,
me thinks I heare it still,
Thy sounding praise, abroad to raise,
with trump that is most shrill,
Tantara tara tantara, &c.

If honour and fame, O noble Dame,
such deeds do aske:
Then Diophon here to purchase fame,
hath done this taske:
Tantara tara tantara,
returnd he is againe,
To leade his life, with thee his wife,
in ioie without disdaine.
Tantara tara tantara, &c.