Thomas Heywood Poems

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Matin Song

PACK, clouds, away! and welcome, day!
   With night we banish sorrow.
Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, aloft
   To give my Love good-morrow!

Hymn To Diana

HAIL, beauteous Dian, queen of shades,
That dwells beneath these shadowy glades,
Mistress of all those beauteous maids

A Rose And A Nettle

WHAT atime herbs and weeds, and such things could talk,
A man in his garden one day did walk,
Spying a nettle green (as th'emeraude) spread

The Message

YE little birds that sit and sing
   Amidst the shady valleys,
And see how Phillis sweetly walks
   Within her garden-alleys;

Of Books And Cheese

NO two things in all things can seem only one;
Because two things so must be one thing alone.
Howbeit, reading of books and eating of cheese,

Praise Of Ceres

WITH fair Ceres, Queen of Grain,
The reaped fields we roam, roam, roam:
Each country peasant, nymph, and swain,


I COME but as a harbinger, being sent
To tell you what these preparations mean.
Look for no glorious state; our Muse is bent


But Psyche lives, and on her breath attend
Delights that far surmount all earthly joy;
Music, sweet voices, and ambrosian fare;

Search After God

I sought Thee round about, O Thou my God,
In thine abode;
I said unto the earth, 'Speak, art Thou He?'
She answered me,

Shepherd's Song

We that have known no greater state
Than this we live in, praise our fate;
For courtly silks in cares are spent,

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