THE peaceful western wind
The winter storms hath tamed,
And nature in each kind
The kind heat hath inflamed:
The forward buds so sweetly breathe
Out of their earthly bowers,
That heav’n, which views their pomp beneath,
Would fain be decked with flowers.
See how the morning smiles
On her bright eastern hill,
And with soft steps beguiles
Them that lie slumbering still!
The music-loving birds are come
From cliffs and rocks unknown,
To see the trees and briars bloom
That late were overflown.
What Saturn did destroy,
Love’s Queen revives again;
And now her naked boy
Doth in the fields remain,
Where he such pleasing change doth view
In every living thing,
As if the world were born anew
To gratify the Spring.
If all things life present,
Why die my comforts then?
Why suffers my content?
Am I the worst of men?
O beauty, be not thou accus’d
Too justly in this case!
Unkindly if true love be used,
’Twill yield thee little grace.