Page:Anne Bradstreet and her time.djvu/268

252 With hair all wet she pussing thus began; Bright June, July and August hot are mine, In th' first Sol doth in crabbed Cancer shine. His progress to the North now's fully done, Then retrograde must be my burning Sun, Who to his Southward Tropick still is bent, Yet doth his parching heat but more augment Though he decline, because his flames so fair, Have throughly dry'd the earth, and heat the air. Like as an Oven that long time hath been heat, Whose vehemency at length doth grow so great, That if you do withdraw her burning store, 'Tis for a time as fervent as before. Now go those foolick Swains, the Shepherd Lads To wash the thick cloth'd flocks with pipes full glad In the cool streams they labour with delight Rubbing their dirty coats till they look white; Whose fleece when finely spun and deeply dy'd With Robes thereof Kings have been dignified, Blest rustick Swains, your pleasant quiet life, Hath envy bred in Kings that were at strife, Careless of worldly wealth you sing and pipe, Whilst they'r imbroyl'd in wars & troubles rife: Which made great Bajazet cry out in 's woes, Oh happy shepherd which hath not to lose.

Orthobulus, nor yet Sebastia great, But whist 'leth to thy flock in cold and heat. Viewing the Sun by day, the Moon by night Endimions, Dianæs dear delight, Upon the grass resting your healthy limbs, By purling Brooks looking how fishes swims, If pride within your lowly Cells ere haunt, Of him that was Shepherd then King go vaunt. This moneth the Roses are distil'd in glasses, Whose fragrant smel all made perfumes surpasses The cherry, Gooseberry are now in th' prime, And for all sorts of Pease, this is the time. July my next, the hott'st in all the year, The sun through Leo now takes his Career, Whose flaming breath doth melt us from afar, Increased by the star Canicular, This month from Julius Ceasar took its name,