THE soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings, <br />With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale: <br />The nightingale with feathers new she sings; <br />The turtle to her make hath told her tale. <br />Summer is come, for every spray now springs: <br />The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; <br />The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; <br />The fishes flete with new repaired scale. <br />The adder all her slough away she slings; <br />The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale; <br />The busy bee her honey now she mings; <br />Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale. <br /> <br />And thus I see among these pleasant things <br />Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.<br /><br />Henry Howard Earl of Surrey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/description-of-spring-wherein-each-thing-renews/
