George Gascoigne (Джордж Гаскойн)
The Night Is Near Gone
HEY! now the day dawis; The jolly cock crawis; Now shroudis the shawis Thro' Nature anon. The thissel-cock cryis On lovers wha lyis: Now skaillis the skyis; The nicht is neir gone. The fieldis ouerflowis With gowans that growis, Quhair lilies like low is As red as the rone. The turtle that true is, With notes that renewis, Her pairty pursuis: The nicht is neir gone. Now hairtis with hindis Conform to their kindis, Hie tursis their tyndis On ground quhair they grone. Now hurchonis, with hairis, Aye passis in pairis; Quhilk duly declaris The nicht is neir gone. The season excellis Through sweetness that smellis; Now Cupid compellis Our hairtis echone On Venus wha waikis, To muse on our maikis, Syne sing for their saikis— 'The nicht is neir gone!' All courageous knichtis Aganis the day dichtis The breist-plate that bright is To fight with their fone. The stoned steed stampis Through courage, and crampis, Syne on the land lampis: The nicht is neir gone. The freikis on feildis That wight wapins weildis With shyning bright shieldis At Titan in trone; Stiff speiris in reistis Ouer corseris crestis Are broke on their breistis: The nicht is neir gone. So hard are their hittis, Some sweyis, some sittis, And some perforce flittis On ground quhile they grone. Syne groomis that gay is On blonkis that brayis With swordis assayis:— The nicht is neir gone.
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