SPRING

FOR YOUTH

SPRING

(From Mutabilitie, Canto vii.)

So forth issew'd the Seasons of the yeare.
First lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowers
That freshly budded and new bloosmes did beare,
[In which a thousand birds had built their bowres
That sweetly sung to call forth Paramours]
And in his hand a javelin he did beare,
And on his head [as fit for warlike stoures]
A guilt engraven morion he did weare;

That as some did him love, so others did him feare.

Ed. Spenser.

Song

(From Valentinian)

NOW the lusty Spring is seen ;
Golden yellow, gaudy blue,
Daintily invite the view.

Everywhere upon the green,
Roses blushing as they blow
And enticing men to pull,
Lilies whiter than the snow,
Woodbines of sweet honey full:
All love's emblems, and all cry,
"Ladies, if not plucked, we die."

Yet the lusty Spring hath stayed;
Blushing red and purest white
Daintily to love invite

Every woman, every maid.

Cherries kissing as they grow,
And inviting men to taste,
Apples even ripe below,
Winding gently to the waist:

All love's emblems, and all cry,
66 Ladies, if not plucked, we die."

John Fletcher.

Rosalynd's Madrigal

LOVE in my bosom like a bee

Doth suck his sweet;

Now with his wings he plays with me,
Now with his feet.

Within mine eyes he makes his nest,
His bed amidst my tender breast.
My kisses are his daily feast;
And yet he robs me of my rest.
"Ah, wanton! will ye?"

And if I sleep, then percheth he
With pretty flight,

And makes his pillow of my knee

The live-long night.

Strike I my lute, he tunes the string;

He music plays, if so I sing.

He lends me every lovely thing;

Yet, cruel! he my heart doth sting.
Whist, wanton! still ye!

Else I with roses every day

Will whip you hence!

And bind you, when you want to play;

For your offence

I'll shut my eyes to keep you in!

I'll make you fast it for your sin !

I'll count your power not worth a pin ! Alas! what hereby shall I win

If he gainsay me?