The leaves upon the self-same bough did hide, Beside the young, the old and ripened fig. Here fruit was green, there ripe with vermeil side, The apples new and old grew on one twig. The fruitful vine her arms spread high and wide, That bended underneath their clusters big; The grapes were tender here, hard, young and sour, There, purple, ripe and nectar sweet forth pour.
The joyous birds, hid under greenwood shade, Sung many notes on every branch and bough; The wind that in the leaves and waters played, With murmur sweet now sang, and whistled now; Ceased the birds, the wind loud answer made, And while they sang, it rumbled soft and low; Thus, were it hap or cunning, chance or art, The wind in this strange music bore his part.
With party-coloured plumes and purple bill A wondrous bird among the rest there flew, That in plain speech sung lovelays loud and shrill, Her leden[1] was like human language true; So much she talked, and with such wit and skill That strange it seemed how much good she knew; Her feathered fellows all stood hushed to hear, Dumb was the wind, the waters silent were.
"The gently-budding rose (quoth she) behold, The first scent peeping forth with virgin beams, Half ope, half shut, her beauties doth upfold In their dear leaves, and less seen fairer seems; And after, spreads them forth more broad and bold, Then languisheth and dies in last extremes; Nor seems the same that decked bed and bower Of many a lady late and paramour;
"So in the passing of a day doth pass The bud and blossom of the life of man, Nor e'er doth flourish more, but like the gratis Cut down, becometh withered, pale and wan; Oh, gather then the rose while time thou has: Short is the day, done when it scant began; Gather the rose of love which yet thou may'st; Loving be loved; embracing, be embraced."
She ceased; and as approving all she spoke, The choir of birds their heavenly tune renew; The turtles sighed, and sighs with kisses broke; The fowls to shades unseen by pairs withdrew; It seemed the laurel chaste and stubborn oak, And all the gentle trees on earth that grew, It seemed the land, the sea and heaven above All breathed out fancy sweet and sighed out love.
Through all this music rare and strong consent Of strange allurements, sweet 'bove mean and measure, Severe, firm, constant, still the Knights forth went, Hardening their hearts 'gainst false, enticing pleasure; 'Twixt leaf and leaf their sight before they sent, And after crept themselves at ease and leisure Till they beheld the Queen sit with their knight Beside the lake, shaded with boughs from sight.