yellowing

My lovely Aaron , wherefore look’st thou sad ,
When everything doth make a gleeful boast ?
The birds chant melody on every bush ,
The snakes lies rollèd in the cheerful sun ,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
And make a checkered shadow on the ground .
Under their sweet shade , Aaron , let us sit ,
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds ,
Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns ,
As if a double hunt were heard at once ,
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise .
And after conflict such as was supposed
The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed
When with a happy storm they were surprised ,
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave ,
We may , each wreathèd in the other’s arms ,
Our pastimes done , possess a golden slumber ,
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
Be unto us as is a nurse’s song
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep .