Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And let the roaring organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes,
The whiles with hollow throats,
The Choristers the joyful anthem sing.

 ... 
Sing ye sweet angels, Alleluia
That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring.

Now all is done; bring home the bride again,
bring home the triumph of our victory,
Bring home with you the glory of her gain,
With joyance bring her and with jollity.
Never had man more joyfull day then this,
Whom Heaven would heap with bliss.
Make feast therefore now all this live long day,
This day for ever to me holy is,
Pour out the wine without restraint or stay,
Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful,
Pour out to all that will,
And sprinkle all the posts and walls with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crown ye God Bacchus with a coronal,
And Hymen also crown with wreaths of vine,
And let the Graces dance unto the rest;
For they can do it best:
The whiles the maidens do their carrol sing, 
To which the woods shall answer and their echo ring.