203.

RICHARD BARNEFIELD

Philomel

S it fell upon a day

AS

In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made,

Beasts did leap and birds did sing,
Trees did grow and plants did spring;
Everything did banish moan
Save the Nightingale alone:
She, poor bird, as all forlorn
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.
Fie, fie, fie! now would she cry;
Tereu, Tereu! by and by;
That to hear her so complain
Scarce I could from tears refrain;
For her griefs so lively shown
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! thought I, thou mourn'st in vain,
None takes pity on thy pain:

1574-1627

Senseless trees they cannot hear thee,
Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee:

King Pandion he is dead,

All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;

All thy fellow birds do sing
Careless of thy sorrowing:
Even so, poor bird, like thee,
None alive will pity me.

204.

Sweet Content

ART thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?

O sweet content!

Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd?
O punishment!

Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vex'd
To add to golden numbers golden numbers?

1575-1641

O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace;

Honest labour bears a lovely face;

Then hey nonny nonny-hey nonny nonny!

Canst drink the waters of the crispèd spring?
O sweet content!

Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears?
O punishment!

Then he that patiently want's burden bears,
No burden bears, but is a king, a king!

O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content!

Work apace, apace, apace, apace;

Honest labour bears a lovely face;

Then hey nonny nonny-hey nonny nonny!

205.

THOMAS HEYWOOD

Matin Song

1577-1650

PACK, clouds, away! and welcome, day!

With night we banish sorrow.

Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, aloft
To give my Love good-morrow!

206.

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!

The Message

YE little birds that sit and sing

Amidst the shady valleys,

And see how Phillis sweetly walks
Within her garden-alleys;

Go, pretty birds, about her bower;
Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower;
Ah me! methinks I see her frown!
Ye pretty wantons, warble.

Go tell her through your chirping bills,
As you by me are bidden,

To her is only known my love,

Which from the world is hidden.

205. stare] starling.

207.

Go, pretty birds, and tell her so,
See that your notes strain not too low,
For still methinks I see her frown;
Ye pretty wantons, warble.

Go tune your voices' harmony
And sing, I am her lover;

Strain loud and sweet, that every note
With sweet content may move her:
And she that hath the sweetest voice,
Tell her I will not change my choice:
-Yet still methinks I see her frown!

Ye pretty wantons, warble.

O fly! make haste! see, see, she falls
Into a pretty slumber!

Sing round about her rosy bed

That waking she may wonder:

Say to her, 'tis her lover true
That sendeth love to you, to you!
And when you hear her kind reply,
Return with pleasant warblings.

JOHN FLETCHER

Sleep

1579-1625

COME, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving

Lock me in delight awhile;
Let some pleasing dreams beguile
All my fancies; that from thence
I may feel an influence

All my powers of care bereaving!

208.

209.

Though but a shadow, but a sliding,
Let me know some little joy!
We that suffer long annoy
Are contented with a thought
Through an idle fancy wrought:
O let my joys have some abiding!

CYNT

Bridal Song

YNTHIA, to thy power and thee
We obey.

Joy to this great company !

And no day

Come to steal this night away

Till the rites of love are ended,
And the lusty bridegroom say,
Welcome, light, of all befriended!

Pace out, you watery powers below;
Let your feet,

Like the galleys when they row,
Even beat;

Let your unknown measures, set
To the still winds, tell to all
That gods are come, immortal, great,
To honour this great nuptial!