Now winter nights enlarge
The number of thie houres,
And clouds their stomes discharge
Upon the ayrie towres;
Let know the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine,
Let well-tun'd words amaze
With harmonie divine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall waite on hunny Love,
While youthfull Revels, Masks,
and Courtly sights,
Sleepes leaden spels remove.
Thomas Campion
The Third Booke of Ayres
