Zephyrus brings the time that sweetly scenteth, With flowers and herbs, and winter's frost exileth, Progne now chirpeth, and Philomel lamenteth, Flora the garlands white and red compileth. Fields do rejoice, the frowning sky relenteth, Jove, to behold his dearest daughter, smileth. The air, the water, the earth to joy consenteth, Each creature now to love, him reconcileth.
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