  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-redbreast! Sing, birds, in every furrow, And from each bill let music shrill Give my fair love good-morrow! Blackbird 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. Thomas Heywood. |
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