When Summer on the earth was queen

She held her court in gardens green

Fair hung with tapestry of leaves,

Where threads of gold the sun enweaves

With checquered patterns on the floor

Of velvet lawns the scythe smoothes o'er:

Their waving fans the soft winds spread

Each way to cool Queen Summer's head:

The woodland dove made music soft,

And Eros touched his lute full oft.