Matin Song Poem by Thomas Heywood

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!