Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Wodenfride's Song
Wodenfride's Song.
The sun, and season in each thing,Revive new pleasure, the sweet springHath put to flight the winter keen,To glad our lovely summer queen.
The paths where Amargana treads,With flowery tapestry Flora spreads;And Nature clothes the ground in green,To glad our lovely summer queen.
The groves put on their rich array,With hawthorn blooms embroidered gay,And sweet perfumed with eglantine,To glad our lovely summer queen.
The silent river stays his course,While along his crystal sourceThe silver-scalèd fish are seenTo glad our lovely summer queen.
The wood at her fair sight rejoices,The little birds with their loud voicesIn concert on the briers convene,To glad our lovely summer queen.
The fleecy flocks do scud and skip,The wood-nymphs, fauns, and satyrs trip,And dance the myrtle trees between,To glad our lovely summer queen. 1600.