Thomas Heywood

Matin Song

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 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!
            Sing, birds, in every furrow!