I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April,
May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by
Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.
I sing of Time's trans-shifting; and I
How roses first came red, and lilies white.
I write of groves, of twilights, and I
The court of Mab, and of the fairy king.
I write of Hell;
I sing (and ever shall)Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.
