Читать книгу The Golden Treasury - Various - Страница 83

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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-red-breast,

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!

T. Heywood