Shayari Bazar

From you have I been absent in the spring,When proud-pied April dressd in all his trimHath put a spirit of youth in every thing,That heavy Saturn laughd and leapd with him.Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smellNor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;They were but sweet, but figures of delight,Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.Yet seemd it winter still, and, you away,As with your shadow I with these did play.