Liuely Spring which makes all new,
Iolly Spring, doth enter ;
Sweete yong sun-beames doe subdue
Angry, aged Winter.
Blasts are milde, and seas are calme,
Euery meadow flowes with balme,
The Earth weares all her riches ;
Harmonious birdes sing such a psalme,
As eare and heart bewitches.
Reserue (sweet Spring) this Nymph of ours,
Eternall garlands of thy flowers,
Greene garlands neuer wasting ;
In her shall last our State's faire Spring,
Now and for euer flourishing,
As long as Heauen is lasting.
Sir John Davies