HERE lies the blithe Spring,
Who first taught birds to sing,
Yet in April herself fell a-crying:
Then May growing hot,
A sweating sickness she got,
And the first of June lay a-dying.
Yet no month can say,
But her merry daughter May
Stuck her coffins with flowers great plenty:
The cuckoo sung in verse
An epitaph o'er her hearse,
But assure you the lines were not dainty.
Here Lies The Blithe Spring
Thomas Dekker
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Poem topics: daughter, june, spring, great, sickness, merry, verse, april, I love you, I miss you, april fools, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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