The earth late choakt with showers

The earth late choakt with showers
Is now araid in greene:
Her bosome springs with flowers,
The aire dissolues her teene,
The heauens laugh at her glorie:
Yet bide I sad and sorie.

The woods are deckt with leaues,
And trees are cloathed gaie,
And Flora crownd with sheaues
With oaken boughs dooth play:
Where I am clad in blacke,
The token of my wracke.

The birds vpon the trees
Doo sing with pleasant voices,
And chaunt in their degrees
Their loues and luckie choices:
When I, whilst they are singing,
With sighs mine armes am wringing.

The Thrushes seeke the shade,
And I my fatall graue:
Their flight to heauen is made,
My walke on earth I haue:
They free, I thrall: they iolly,
I sad and pensiue wholly.