Had warned once that Phœbus’ fiery car
In haste was climbing up the eastern hill,
Full envious that night so long his room did fill.
At last the golden oriental gate
Of greatest heaven ’gan to open fair,
And Phœbus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate,
Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair,
And hurl’d his glist’ring beams through gloomy air:
Which when the wakeful elf perceiv’d, straitway
He started up and did himself prepare