ALEXANDER HUME

With gilded eyes and open wings The cock his courage shows ;

With claps of joy his breast he dings, And twenty times he crows.

The dove with whistling wings so blue

The winds can fast collect; Her purple pens turn many a hue

Against the sun direct.

Now noon is went ; gone is midday,

The heat doth slake at last; The sun descends down West away,

For three of clock is past.

The rayons of the sun we see

Diminish in their strength ; The shade of every tower and tree

Extendit is in length.

Great is the calm, for everywhere

The wind is setting down ; The reek throws right up in the air

From every tower and town.

The gloming comes ; the day is spent ;

The sun goes out of sight ; And painted is the Occident

With purple sanguine bright.

Our west horizon circular

From time the sun be set Is all with rubies, as it were,

Or roses red o'erfret.

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