EDMUND SPENSER
And seemest to laugh atweene thy twinkling light,
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many, which for joy doe sing,
Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past;
Enough it is that all the day was youres'
Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast,
Now bring the Brydc into the brydall boures.
The night is come, now soon her disaray,
And in her bed her lay;
Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And silken courteins over her display,
And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my faire love does ly,
In proud humility!
Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras,
Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was,
With bathing in the Acidalian brooke.
Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon,
And leave my love alone,
And leave likewise your former lay to sing:
The woods no more shall answcre, nor your echo ring.
Now welcome, night * thou night so long expected, That long daies labour doest at last defray, And all my cares, which cruel 1 Love collected Hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye: Spread thy broad wing over my love and me, That no man may us see ; And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,
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