 | The Springs Glorie |  |
Epilogue.
I that of all the seasons am the least,Though first in time, and usher in the rest,
Impart my pleasures freely, but desire
You'le not abuse them with excesse. My quire
Shall sing as every faire one doth become
A chaste Bride, her Epithalamium.
Though they are short be pleas'd with these, to you
I yearely will returne and bring you new.
The Spring being received into the Scæne it closeth.
The end.
| The Springs Glorie | |