Another Song.
The Winter of my infancy being over-past
Then supposed, suddenly the Spring would hast
Which useth every thing to cheare
With invitation to recreacion
This time of yeare.
The Sun sends forth his radient beames to warm the ground
The drops distil, between the gleams delights abound,
Vèr brings her mate the flowery Queen,
The Groves shee dresses, her Art expresses