Western Wind
THE peaceful western windThe winter storms hath tamed,And nature in each kindThe kind heat hath inflamed:The forward buds so sweetly breatheOut of their earthly bowers,That heav’n, which views their pomp beneath,Would fain be decked with flowers.
See how the morning smilesOn her bright eastern hill,And with soft steps beguilesThem that lie slumbering still!The music-loving birds are comeFrom cliffs and rocks unknown,To see the trees and briars bloomThat late were overflown.
What Saturn did destroy,Love’s Queen revives again;And now her naked boyDoth in the fields remain,Where he such pleasing change doth viewIn every living thing,As if the world were born anewTo gratify the Spring.
If all things life present,Why die my comforts then?Why suffers my content?Am I the worst of men?O beauty, be not thou accus’dToo justly in this case!Unkindly if true love be used,’Twill yield thee little grace.