The peacefull westerne winde
    The winter stormes hath tam'd,
    And nature in each kinde
    The kinde heat hath inflam'd :
The forward buds so sweetly breathe
    Out of their earthy bowers,
That heau'n which viewes their pompe beneath
    Would faine be deckt with flowers.

    See how the morning smiles
    On her bright easterne hill,
    And with soft steps beguiles
    Them that lie slumbring still.
The musicke-louing birds are come
    From cliffes and rocks vnknowne,
To see the trees and briers blome
    That late were ouerflowne.

    What Saturne did destroy,
    Loues Queene reuiues againe ;
    And now her naked boy
    Doth in the fields remaine,
Where he such pleasing change doth view
    In eu'ry liuing thing,
As if the world were borne anew
    To gratifie the Spring.

    If all things life present,
    Why die my comforts then ?
    Why suffers my content ?
    Am I the worst of men ?
O, beautie, be not thou accus'd
    Too iustly in this case :
Vnkindly if true loue be vs'd,
    'Twill yeeld thee little grace.