Then fled the night and darkness did me leave.
Mine eyes their wonted strength receive,
As when swift Corus spreads the stars with clouds
And the clear sky a veil of tempest shrouds
The sun doth lurk, the earth receiveth night.
Lacking the boon of starry light;
But if fierce Boreas, sent from Thrace, make way
For the restoring of the day,
Phoebus with fresh and sudden beams doth rise,
Striking with light our wondering eyes.