THOMAS HEYWOOD

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 I

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 cocksparrow, You pretty elves, among yourselves

Sing my fair Love good-morrow !

To give my Love good-morrow I Sing, birds, in every furrow !

206. The Message

VE little birds that sit and sing

• Amidst the shady valleys,

And see how Phillis sweetly walks

Within her garden-alleys ; Go, pretty birds, about her bower; Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower ; Ah me ! methinks I see her frown ! Ye pretty wantons, warble.

Go tell her through your chirping bills,

As you by me are bidden, To her is only known my love,

Which from the world is hidden.

2oj. stare] starling. 234-

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