The unthrift sun shot vital gold
A thousand, thousand pieces;
And heav'n its azure did unfold
Chequer'd with snowy fleeces;
The air was all in spice
And ev'ry bush
A garland wore:
Thus fed my eyes
But all the earth lay hush
Only a little fountain lent
Some use for ears
And on the dumb shades language spent
The music of her tears