Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day, With night we banish sorrow, Sweet air blow soft, mount Lark aloft To give my Love good-morrow. Wings from the wind, to please her mind, Notes from the Lark I’ll borrow; Bird prune thy wing, Nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow; To give my Love good-morrow Notes from them all I’ll borrow.

Wake from thy nest, Robin Red-breast, Sing birds in every furrow, And from each hill, let music shrill, Give my fair Love good-morrow: Black-bird and thrush, in every bush, Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow! You pretty elves, amongst yourselves Sing my fair Love good-morrow. To give my Love good-morrow Sing birds in every furrow.