Hymne X: To the moneth of September

Each Moneth hath praise in some degree;
Let May to others seeme to be
In Sense the sweetest Season;
September thou art best to me,
And best dost please my reason.

But neither for thy Corne nor Wine
Extoll I those mild dayes of thine,
Though corne and wine might praise thee;
Heauen giues thee honor more diuine,
And higher fortunes raise thee.

Renownd art thou (sweet moneth) for this,
Emong thy dayes her birth day is,
Grace, plenty, peace and honor
In one faire houre with her were borne,
Now since they still her Crowne adorne,
And still attend vpon her.