And leaues began, to leaue the shady tree,
The winter colde encreased on full fast,
And time of yeare to sadnes moued mee:
For moysty blastes, not halfe so mirthfull bee,
As sweete Aurora bringes in spring time fayre,
Our ioyes they dimme, as winter damps the ayre.
2.
The nights began, to growe to lengthe apace,
Sir Phœbus to th’ Antarctique gan to fare:
From Libraes lance, to th’ Crab hee tooke his race