Classic Poem

Come merry spring delight us
For winter long did spite us
In pleasure still persever,
Thy beauties ending never,
Spring, and growe
Lasting soe
With joyes increasing ever;

Lett colde from hence bee banisht
Till hopes from mee bee vanisht,
Butt bless thy dainties growing
In fullnes freely flowing
Sweet birds sing
For the spring
All mirthe is now beestowing;

Philomeale in this arbour
Makes now her loving harbour
Yett of her state complaining
Her notes in mildnes straining
Which though sweet
Yett doe meete
Her former luckles payning.