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~Pack, Clouds, Away~ 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! Thomas Heywood (d. 1650(?)) |
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