Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 62. The weary yeare his race now having run

The weary yeare his race now having run,
The new begins his compast course anew:
With shew of morning mylde he hath begun,
Betokening peace and plenty to ensew.
So let us, which this chaunge of weather vew,
Chaunge eke our mynds, and former lives amend;
The old yeares sinnes forepast let us eschew,
And fly the faults with which we did offend.
Then shall the new yeares ioy forth freshly send
Into the glooming world his gladsome ray,
And all these stormes, which now his beauty blend*,
Shall turne to calmes, and tymely cleare away.
  So, likewise, Love! cheare you your heavy spright,
  And chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight.

[* Blend, blemish.] 

1. Amoretti 13. In that proud port which her so goodly graceth
2. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
3. Amoretti 23. Penelope, for her Ulisses sake
4. Amoretti 42. The love which me so cruelly tormenteth
5. Amoretti 82. Ioy of my life! full oft for loving you

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