The Arbor of Amitie wherin is comprised pleasant Pohems and pretie Poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell |
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The Louer whose loue begonne in time of spring, declares howe natures force then workes in euery thing.
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 | The Arbor of Amitie |  |
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The Louer whose loue begonne in time of spring, declares howe natures force then workes in euery thing.
All
things on earth doe much reioyce,
In sweete returne of pleasant spring,
The birds declare by their shrill voice,
When ioyfully they sit and sing.
What pleasures great they take and finde,
without anoy of storme or winde.
In sweete returne of pleasant spring,
The birds declare by their shrill voice,
When ioyfully they sit and sing.
What pleasures great they take and finde,
without anoy of storme or winde.
The nightingale then steps in place,
Whose cunning tunes exceede the rest:
The slaundrous birde eke showes hir face,
In euery nooke as bolde as best.
The creking Crow and carrion Kight,
Not passe the spring without delight.
Whose cunning tunes exceede the rest:
The slaundrous birde eke showes hir face,
In euery nooke as bolde as best.
The creking Crow and carrion Kight,
Not passe the spring without delight.
The Dooues which Venus birds men call,
And other fowle of lande and lake,
Full well doe knowe the time is fall,
Wherein eche thing, doth wishe a make,
Wherefore as nature them doth binde,
Eche one a Feere fayles not to finde.
And other fowle of lande and lake,
Full well doe knowe the time is fall,
Wherein eche thing, doth wishe a make,
Wherefore as nature them doth binde,
Eche one a Feere fayles not to finde.
The Robine small, and peeping Wren,
The Tidie trim, and Titmus eeke,
Full fast themselues, doe couple then,
And spares no sporte that doth them leeke.
The Sparrow hops from spray to spray,
Where he with Hen hath pleasant play.
The Tidie trim, and Titmus eeke,
Full fast themselues, doe couple then,
And spares no sporte that doth them leeke.
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Where he with Hen hath pleasant play.
Eche beast also: away doth shake,
His weather worne, and winter hue:
And cheerefully their chosen make,
With happie hope doe past persue.
The wretched wormes to ioyne in ioy,
In pleasant spring are nothing coy.
His weather worne, and winter hue:
And cheerefully their chosen make,
With happie hope doe past persue.
The wretched wormes to ioyne in ioy,
In pleasant spring are nothing coy.
Sith natures force doth this appeere,
In birdes and beastes which be but brute,
To graunt him grace, why should you feare,
Whome liking leads to tempt his sute.
Who seekes but that among the rest,
Which natures lawe doth him behest.
In birdes and beastes which be but brute,
To graunt him grace, why should you feare,
Whome liking leads to tempt his sute.
Who seekes but that among the rest,
Which natures lawe doth him behest.
| The Arbor of Amitie | |