HERE lies the blithe Spring, <br />Who first taught birds to sing, <br />Yet in April herself fell a-crying: <br />Then May growing hot, <br />A sweating sickness she got, <br />And the first of June lay a-dying. <br /> <br />Yet no month can say, <br />But her merry daughter May <br />Stuck her coffins with flowers great plenty: <br />The cuckoo sung in verse <br />An epitaph o'er her hearse, <br />But assure you the lines were not dainty.<br /><br />Thomas Dekker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-lies-the-blithe-spring/
