Classic Poem

See the day breakes; heark how the whispering wind
Calls up the drowsy birds to their mattens.
But who ere saw so calme a morning rise
Out of the bosome of so rough a night?
She seems t'have robd the heav'n of stars to fill
The earth with flowers; Sir:
Sure tis some dream, Melisso!
But now the whole world was at variance:
The sea in clouds, clouds in the sea were lost;
The skies with horrid claps of thunder rent,
Bright in the dreadfull glory of their lightning;
The earths deep roots were shaken by the winds,
Rivers of rain powrd down as if the heavens
Meant to discharge the sea upon the earth;
So as this morning I durst hardly peep
Out of my cabbin, fearing to meet nothing
But wild disorder, flowers torn from their stalkes,
There the boughes stript, and there the bodys felld,
And every where the Tropheys of the war
Twixt heav'n and earth; But now, past thought, I see
The storme hath onely brusht their verdant tresses,
Not a leafe shaken off: the fields and vallies
Smile more then ever, proudly deckt with flowers;
'Tis strange the injuries of heav'n should prove
Blessings to earth; Mel:
The heavens Sireno never
Change their eternall course but, to foretell
Some unexpected issue, they instruct:
Thunder and lightning their interpreters.
Perhaps the terrours of the troubled night,
Succeeded by so blest a morn, presage
That after this short storm of fear and trouble
A calme of gladness will ensue. Sir:
Ah no!
If heav'n were so concern'd for us, the sun
Would in the ocean hide himselfe for ever,
Rather then as now he doth rise to smile
On our (alasse) too certain miseries.
But hearst thou not Oronte is new landed,
The royall instrument of our misfortunes? Mel:
No: I'm a stranger unto all things here.
Here, with my daughter Cloris, I arriv'd
Late last evening from the holy Island,
Whither thou knowst we went ith'spring, and yet
Am but a young Inhabitant of Scyrus.