Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
105 That rheumatic diseases do abound:
[106] And thorough this distemperature we see
[107] The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose;
[109] And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown
110 An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
[112] The childing autumn, angry winter, change
[113] Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world,