Nightingales ye now may hear, Piercing clear, Singing in the deepest shade; Many and many a babbled note Chime and float, Woodland music through the glade. April, all to welcome thee, Spring sets free Ancient flames, and with low breath Wakes the ashes grey and old That the cold Chilled within our hearts to death. Thou beholdest in the warm Hours, the swarm Of the thievish bees, that flies Evermore from bloom to bloom For perfume, Hid away in tiny thighs. Her cool shadows May can boast, Fruits almost Ripe, and gifts of fertile dew, Manna-sweet and honey-sweet, That complete Her flower garland fresh and new. Nay, but I will give my praise, To these days, Named with the glad name of Her {23} That from out the foam o’ the sea Came to be Sudden light on earth and air. ROSES. RONSARD, 1550. I SEND you here a wreath of blossoms blown, And woven flowers at sunset gathered, Another dawn had seen them ruined, and shed Loose leaves upon the grass at random strown. By this, their sure example, be it known, That all your beauties, now in perfect flower, Shall fade as these, and wither in an hour, Flowerlike, and brief of days, as the flower sown. Ah, time is flying, lady—time is flying; Nay, ’tis not time that flies but we that go, Who in short space shall be in churchyard lying, And of our loving parley none shall know, Nor any man consider what we were; Be therefore kind, my love, whiles thou art fair. THE ROSE. RONSARD, 1550. SEE, Mignonne, hath not the Rose, That this morning did unclose Her purple mantle to the light, Lost, before the day be dead, The glory of her raiment red, Her colour, bright as yours is bright? Ah, Mignonne, in how few hours, The petals of her purple flowers All have faded, fallen, died; Sad Nature, mother ruinous, That seest thy fair child perish thus ’Twixt matin song and even tide. Hear me, my darling, speaking sooth, Gather the fleet flower of your youth, Take ye your pleasure at the best; Be merry ere your beauty flit, For length of days will tarnish it Like roses that were loveliest. TO THE MOON. RONSARD, 1550.