The four Seasons of

the Year.

[59]

A

Spring.

Nother four I've left yet to bring on,

Of four times four the last Quaternion,

The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,
In feafon all these Seafons I fhall bring:
Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,
At present claim'd, and had priority.

With fmiling face and garments fomewhat green,
She trim'd her locks, which late had frosted been,
Nor hot nor cold, fhe fpake, but with a breath,
Fit to revive, the nummed earth from death.'

s yet for.

Instead of this and the three preceding lines the first edition has,
With fmiling Sun-fhine face, and garments green,

She gently thus began, like fome fair Queen.

Three months (quoth fhe)" are 'lotted to my share
March, April, May of all the rest most fair.
Tenth of the first, Sol into Aries enters,
And bids defiance to all tedious winters,
Croffeth the Line, and equals night and day,
(Stil adds to th' laft til after pleasant May)

And now makes glad the darkned" northern wights
Who for fome months have feen but ftarry lights.
Now goes the Plow-man to his merry toyle,
He might unloose his winter locked foyl:
The Seeds-man too, doth lavish out his grain,
In hope the more he cafts, the more to gain:
The Gardner now fuperfluous branches lops,
And poles erects for his young clambring hops.
Now digs then fowes his herbs, his flowers & roots
And carefully manures his trees of fruits.

The Pleiades their influence now give,

And all that feem'd as dead afresh doth live.
The croaking frogs, whom nipping winter kil'd
Like birds now chirp, and hop about the field,
The Nightingale, the black-bird and the Thrush
Now tune their layes, on sprayes of every bufh.
The wanton frisking Kid, and soft-fleec'd Lambs
Do' jump and play before their feeding Dams,
The tender tops of budding grafs they crop,
They joy in what they have, but more in hope:

[60]

u there are.
x green.

thofe blinded.

w For to.

y Now.

For though the frost hath loft his binding power,
Yet many a fleece of fnow and stormy shower
Doth darken Sol's bright eye,* makes us remember
The pinching North-weft wind of cold" December.
My fecond moneth is April, green and fair,

Of longer dayes, and a more temperate Air:
The Sun in Taurus keeps his refidence,"

And with his warmer beams glanceth from thence
This is the month whofe fruitful fhowrs produces
All fet and fown' for all delights and uses:
The Pear, the Plum, and Apple-tree now flourish
The grafs grows long the hungry beaft to nourish.
The Primrose pale, and azure violet

Among the virduous grafs hath nature fet,

That when the Sun on's Love (the earth) doth shine
Thefe might as lace fet out her garment fine.
The fearfull bird his little houfe now builds

In trees and walls, in Cities and in fields.

The outside strong, the infide warm and neat;
A natural Artificer compleat.

[61]

z face.

a Nor-weft cold, of fierce.

The Sun now keeps his posting refidence

In Taurus Signe, yet hasteth straight from thence;
For though in's running progreffe he doth take
Twelve houses of the oblique Zodiack

Yet never minute ftil was known to stand,

But only once at Joshua's ftrange command;

All Plants, and Flowers.

d the tender Lambs.

The clocking hen her chirping chickins leads

With wings & beak defends them from the gleads

My next and laft is fruitfull pleafant May,
Wherein the earth is clad in rich aray,
The Sun now enters loving Gemini,
And heats us with the glances of his eye,

Our thicker rayment makes us lay afide
Left by his fervor we be torrifi'd."

All flowers the Sun now with his beams difclofes,"
Except the double pinks and matchlefs Rofes.
Now fwarms the bufy, witty, honey-Bee,

VVhose praise deserves a page from more then me
The cleanly Hufwifes Dary's now in th' prime,

. Her shelves and firkins fill'd for winter time.
The meads with Cowflips, Honey-fuckles dight,
One hangs his head, the other stands upright:
But both rejoyce at th' heavens clear fmiling face,
More at her showers, which water them a space.
For fruits my Seafon yields the early Cherry,
The hafty Peas, and wholfome cool' Strawberry.
More folid fruits require a longer time,
Each Season hath his fruit, fo hath each Clime:
Each man his own peculiar excellence,

But none in all that hath preheminence.

h All flowers before the fun-beames now difclotes,

Sweet fragrant Spring, with thy fhort pittance flyk

Let fome defcribe thee better then can I.

Yet above all this priviledg is thine,

Thy dayes ftill lengthen without least decline:

1621

WHE

Summer.

HEN Spring had done, the Summer did' begin,
With melted tauny face, and garments thin,
Refembling Fire, Choler, and Middle age,
As Spring did Air, Blood, Youth in's equipage.
Wiping the fweat from of her face" that ran,
With hair all wet fhe puffing thus began;
Bright June, July and August hot are mine,
In'th firft Sol doth in crabbed Cancer shine.
His progress to the North now's fully done,
Then retrograde muft be" my burning Sun,
Who to his fouthward Tropick ftill is bent,
Yet doth his parching heat but more augment
Though he decline, because his flames so fair,
Have throughly dry'd the earth, and heat the air.o

* Instead of this and the following line, the first edition has,
Some fubject, fhallow braines, much matter yeelds,
Sometime a theame that's large, proves barren fields.
Melodious Spring, with thy fhort pittance flye,

In this harsh ftrain, I find no melody,

/ must.

m brow.

" now is.

The reason why, because his flames fo faire,
Hath formerly much heat, the earth and aire.