A poem for August

A slightly more challenging poem this month, from Elizabethan England. Although this is a poem about the New Year, perhaps it is appropriate as we very slowly start the gradual return to normality. We’ve included the original verse and a version in slightly more modern English, if you prefer that!

You can read more about Edmund Spenser here.

Amoretti LXII: The weary yeare his race now having run
By Edmund Spenser

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 eeke 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 joy forth freshly send,
Into the glooming world his gladsome ray:
And all these stormes which now his beauty blend,
Shall turne to caulmes and tymely cleare away.
So likewise love cheare you your heavy spright,
And chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight.

And in (slightly) more modern English: 

The weary year his race now having run, 
The new begins his compass’d course anew: 
With show of morning mild he hath begun, 
Betokening peace and plenty to ensue. 
So let us, with this change of weather view, 
Change eke our minds, and former lives amend: 
The old year’s sins forecast let us eschew, 
And fly the faults with which we did offend. 
Then shall the new year’s joy forth freshly send, 
Into the glooming world, his gladsome ray: 
And all these storms, which now his beauty blend, 
Shall turn to alms and timely clear away. 
So, likewise, Love! cheer you your heavy spright, 
And change old year’s annoy to new delight.