The Soots Season
The soote(1) season, that bud and bloom forth brings,
With green hath clad(2) the hill and eke(3) the vale;
The nightingale with feathers new she(4) sings;
The turtle(5) to her make (6) hath told her tale(7).
Summer is come(8), for every spray now springs;
The hart hath hung his old head(9) on the pale(10);
The buck in brake(11) his winter coat he flings,
The fishes float with new repaired(12) scale;
The adder all her slough(13)away she slings(14),
The swift swallow pursueth(15) the flies small;
The busy bee her honey now she mings(16).
Winter is worn, that was the flowers'bale(17).
And thus I see among these pleasant things,
Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs(18).