SUMMER is y-comen in! Loud sing cuckoo! Groweth seed and bloweth mead, And springeth the wood new. Sing cuckoo! cuckoo!
Ewe bleateth after lamb, Loweth cow after calf; Bullock starteth, buck verteth; Merry sing cuckoo! Cuckoo! cuckoo! Nor cease thou ever now. Sing cuckoo now! Sing cuckoo!
EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
MOST glorious Lord of life! that on this day Didst make thy triumph over death and sin; And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity then captive, us to win: This glorious day, dear Lord, with joy begin, And grant that we, for whom thou diddest die, Being with thy dear blood clean washed from sin, May live for ever in felicity!
And that thy love we weighing worthily, May likewise love thee for the same again; And for thy sake, that all like dear didst buy, With love may one another entertain. So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
FRESH Spring, the herald of love’s mighty king, In whose coat-armour richly are displayed All sorts of flowers, the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayed: Go to my love, where she is careless laid, Yet in her winter bower not well awake; Tell her the joyous time will not be stayed, Unless she do him by the forelock take;
Bid her therefore herself soon ready make, To wait on Love amongst his lovely crew; Where every one that misseth there her make Shall be by him amerced with penance due. Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
LIKE as a ship, that through the ocean wide, By conduct of some star doth make her way, When, as a storm hath dimmed her trusty guide, Out of her course doth wander far astray! So I, whose star, that wont with her bright ray Me to direct, with clouds is overcast, Do wander now, in darkness and dismay, Through hidden perils round about me placed;
Yet hope I well that, when this storm is past, My Helice, the loadstar of my life, Will shine again, and look on me at last, With lovely light to clear my cloudy grief: Till then I wander, careful, comfortless, In secret sorrow and sad pensiveness.