Samuel Daniel: Verses about Spring

These sorrowing sighs, the smokes of mine annoy;
These tears, which heat of sacred flame distills;
Are these due tributes that my faith doth pay
Unto the tyrant whose kindness kills.
I sacrifice my youth and blooming years
At her proud feet, and she respects it not;
My flower untimely's wither'd with my tears
And winter woes, for spring of youth unfit.
She thinks a look may recompence my care,
And so with looks prolongs my long-lookt ease;
As short that bliss, so is the comfort rare,
Yet must that bliss my hungry thoughts appease.
Thus she returns my hopes so fruitless ever;
Once let her love indeed, or eye me never.

I once may see when years shall wreck my wrong,
When golden hairs shall change to silver wire,
And those bright rays that kindle all this fire
Shall fail in force, their working not so strong;
Then Beauty, now the burden of my song,
Whose glorious blaze the world doth so admire,
Must yield up all to tyrant Time's desire;
Then fade those flowers which deckt her pride so long.
When, if she grieve to gaze her in her glass
Which then presents her winter-wither'd hue,
Go you, my verse, go tell her what she was,
For what she was she best shall find in you.
Your fiery heat lets not her glory pass,
But, Phoenix-like, shall make her live anew.