Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Thomas Heywood. 157?1650206. 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; | 5 |
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, | 10 |
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; | 15 |
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: | 20 |
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 | 25 |
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! | 30 |
And when you hear her kind reply, | |
Return with pleasant warblings. |