II.
Alas, how thy dull mind is headlong cast
In depths of woe, where, all her light once lost,
She doth to walk in utter darkness haste,
While cares grow great with earthly tempests tost.
He that through the opened heavens did freely run,
And used to travel the celestial ways,
Marking the rosy splendour of the sun,
And noting Cynthia's cold and watery rays;
He that did bravely comprehend in verse
The different spheres and wandering course of stars,
He that was wont the causes to rehearse
Why sounding winds do with the seas make wars,
What spirit moves the world's well-settled frame,
And why the sun, whom forth the east doth bring,
In western waves doth hide his falling flame,
Searching what power tempers the pleasing Spring
Which makes the earth her rosy flowers to bear,
Whose gift it is that Autumn's fruitful season
Should with full grapes flow in a plenteous year,
Telling of secret Nature every reason,
Now having lost the beauty of his mind
Lies with his neck compassed in ponderous chains;
His countenance with heavy weight declined,
Him to behold the sullen earth constrains.