AH when will this long vveary day haue end, <br />and lende me leaue to come vnto my loue? <br />Hovv slovvly do the houres theyr numbers spend? <br />How slowly does sad Time his feathers moue? <br />Hast thee O fayrest Planet to thy home <br />Within the Westerne some: <br />Thy tyred steedes long since haue need of rest. <br />Long though it be, at last I see it gloome, <br />And the bright euening star with golden creast <br />Appeare out of the East. <br />Fayre childe of beauty, glorious lampe of loue <br />That all the host of heauen in rankes doost lead, <br />And guydest louers through the nights dread, <br />How chearefully thou lookest from aboue, <br />And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light <br />As ioying in the sight <br />Of these glad many which for ioy doe sing, <br />That all the woods them answer and their echo ring.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-16/
