Seven times hath Janus ta'en new year by hand,
Seven times hath blust'ring March blown forth his power
To drive out April's buds, by sea and land,
For minion May to deck most trim with flower.
Seven times hath temperate Ver like pageant played,
And pleasant Aestas eke her flowers told;
Seven times Autumnis heat hath been delayed
With Hyem's boist'rous blasts and bitter cold.
Seven times, the thirteen moons have changid hue,
Seven times, the sun his course hath gone about,
Seven times, each bird her nest hath built anew,
Since first time you to serve I chosid out.
Still yours am I, though thus the time hath passed,
And trust to be so long as life shall last.