Thomas Heywood

(1575-1650)

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!
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

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