Sonnets :: :: University of Virginia Library

As erst, thou com'st, sweet harbinger of Spring,
Singing the song that fed my boyish ears
With promised joys, and pastimes without tears!
Whence com'st thou thus so blithe? Methinks thy wing
Hither hath borne thee from fair Tempe's bowers.
Welcome thou art as are the sunny days
Thou with thee bring'st; or hymning host that raise
At thy approach their note; while nymphs with flowers
The groves and meadows paint! Welcome, sweet bird,
Whate'er the spot thou visitest, there glad
Thou mak'st the heart; age is no longer sad;
But doth forget his years when thou art heard!
When next thou leav'st us, would that I might share
Thy flight, and with thee to strange climes repair.