YE LITTLE BIRDS THAT SIT AND SING
by: Thomas Heywood
- E 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.
- 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 my 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.
-
- Oh, 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.
'Ye Little Birds that Sit and Sing'
was originally published in Fair Maid of the Exchange
(1607). |
MORE
POEMS BY THOMAS HEYWOOD |
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