ALEXANDER HUME

The golden globe incontinent

Sets up his shining head, And o'er the earth and firmament

Displays his beams abread.

For joy the birds with boulden throats

Against his visage sheen Take up their kindly musick notes

In woods and gardens green.

The dew upon the tender crops,

Like pearlis white and round, Or like to melted silver drops,

Refreshis all the ground.

The misty reek, the clouds of rain,

From tops of mountains skails, Clear are the highest hills and plain,

The vapours take the vales.

The ample heaven of fabrick sure

In cleanness does surpass The crystal and the silver pure,

Or clearest polisht glass.

The time so tranquil is and still

That nowhere shall ye fnd, Save on a high and barren hill,

An air of peeping wind.

All trees and simples, great and small,

That balmy leaf do bear, Than they were painted on a wall

No more they move or steir.

boulden] swollen. sheen] bright. skails] clears. simples] herbs.

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