The herds beneath some leafy tree, Amidst the flowers they lie; The stable ships upon the sea Tend up their sails to dry. With gilded eyes and open wings, 85 The cock his courage shows; With claps of joy his breast he dings, And twenty times he crows. The dove with whistling wings so blue, The winds can fast collect, 90 Her purple pens turn many a hue Against the sun direct. Now noon is went; gone is midday, The heat does slake at last, The sun descends down west away, 95 For three o’clock is past. The rayons of the sun we see Diminish in their strength, The shade of every tower and tree Extended is in length. 100 Great is the calm, for everywhere The wind is setting down, The reek throws right up in the air From every tower and town. The gloming comes, the day is spent, 105 The sun goes out of sight, And painted is the occident With purple sanguine bright. The scarlet nor the golden thread, Who would their beauty try, 110 Are nothing like the colour red And beauty of the sky. Our west horizon circular, From time the sun be set, Is all with rubies, as it were, 115 Or roses red o’erfret. What pleasure were to walk and see, Endlong a river clear, The perfect form of every tree Within the deep appear. 120 Oh then it were a seemly thing, While all is still and calm, The praise of God to play and sing With cornet and with shalm! All labourers draw home at even, 125 And can to other say, Thanks to the gracious God of heaven, Which sent this summer day. _Alexander Hume._ IX _A VOW TO LOVE FAITHFULLY, HOWSOEVER HE BE REWARDED._ Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green, Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice; In temperate heat where he is felt and seen; In presence prest of people, mad or wise; Set me in high, or yet in low degree; 5 In longest night, or in the shortest day; In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be; In lusty youth, or when my hairs are gray: Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell, In hill or dale, or in the foaming flood; 10 Thrall, or at large, alive whereso I dwell, Sick or in health, in evil fame or good, Hers will I be; and only with this thought Content myself, although my chance be nought. _Earl of Surrey._ X _AN APPEAL._