Hymne III: To the Spring

Earth now is greene, and heauen is blew,
Liuely Spring which makes all new
Iolly Spring doth enter,
Sweete young Sun-beames do subdue
Angry, aged winter.

Blasts are mild, and Seas are calme,
Euery medow flowes with Balme,
The earth weares all her riches,
Harmonious birdes sing such a Psalme
As eare and hart bewitches.

Reserue (sweete Spring) this Nymph of ours
Eternall garlands of thy flowers,
Greene garlands neuer wasting;
In her shall last our states faire spring,
Now and for euer flourishing,
As long as heauen is lasting.