The Spring

Thomas Carew        

Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or casts an ycie cream
Upon the silver Lake or Crystall streame;
But the warme Sunne thawes the benummed Earth,
And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth
To the dead Swallow; wakes in hollow tree
The drowzie Cuckow and the Humble-Bee.
Now do a quire of chirping Minstrels bring
In tryumph to the world the youthfull Spring.
The Vallies, hills, and woods in rich araye
Welcome the comming of the long'd for May.
Now all things smile; onely my Love doth lowre;
Nor hath the scalding Noon-day-Sunne the power
To melt that marble yce, which still doth hold
Her heart congeald, and makes her pittie cold.
The Oxe, which lately did for shelter flie
Into the stall, doth now securely lie
In open fields; and love no more is made
By the fire side, but in the cooler shade
Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleepe
Under a Sycamoure, and all things keepe
Time with the season; only shee doth carry
June in her eyes, in her heart January.