O Love ! has she done this to thee ?

What shall, alas I become of me ?



First



Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day,

With night we banish sorrow ;
Sweet air blow soft^piount 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, birdis, in every ftirrow ;
And from each hill, let music shrill

Give my fair Love good-morTOW !
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 I

T, Heywood



LXXIV

PROTHALAMION

Calm was the day, and through the trembling air

Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play —

A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay

Hot Titan s beams, wluch then did glister fair ;

When I, (whom sullen care.
Through discontent of my long fruitless stay

In i)rinoes' court, and expectation vain

Of idle hopes, which still do fly away

Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain)

Walk'd forth to ease my pain



45



46 Book

Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames ;
Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems,
Was painted all with variable flowers.
And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems
Fit to deck maidens' bowers.
And crown their paramours
Against the bridal day, which is not long :
Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.
There in a meadow by the river's side
A flock of nymphs I chanced to espy.
