Читать книгу The Golden Treasury - Unknown - Страница 55

     Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day,

      With night we banish sorrow;

     Sweet air blow soft, mount larks 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 both I'll borrow.

     Wake from thy nest, Robin-redbreast!

      Sing, birds, in every furrow;

     And from each hill, 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!