Sonnet 4

NEW yeare, forth looking out of Janus gate,

Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight:

And bidding th'old adieu, his passéd date

Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright.

And calling forth out of sad Winters night,

Fresh Love, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bowre:

Wils him awake, and soone about him dight

His wanton wings and darts of deadly powre.

For lusty Spring now in his timely howre,

Is ready to come forth, him to receive:

And warnes the Earth, with divers colord flowre,

To decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weave.

Then you, faire flowre, in whom fresh youth doth raine,

Prepare your selfe new love to entertaine.