The soote season, that bud and bloomforth brings,With green hath clad the hill and eke thevale;The nightingale with feathers new she
sings;And turtle to her make hath told her tale.
Summer is come, for every spray nowsprings;The
h -art hath hung his old head on thepale;The buck in b-rake his winter coat heflings,
fishes float with new repair'ed scale;The adder all he-r slough away sheslings,The swift swallow pursueth
the flie'ssmall;The busy bee her honey now she mings.Winte-r is worn that was the flowers' bale.And
thus | see amon-g these pleasantthings,Each care decays, and yet my s--orrowsprings.