Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale, sing,
To give my Love good-morrow;

To give my Love good-morrow
Notes from them both I'll borrow.

Wake from thy nest, Robin-red-breast;
Sing, birds, in every furrow;
And from each hill let music shrill

Give my fair Love good-morrow!
Blackbird and thrush in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow !
You pretty clves, amongst yourselves
Sing my fair Love good-morrow;
To give my Love good-morrow
Sing, birds, in every furrow !

THOMAS HEYWOOD.1

SONG.

UNDER the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun

And loves to live i' the sun,

1 THOMAS HEYWOOD was an actor and a prolific dramatist and prose writer of the Elizabethan school, who flourished in London during the reigns of Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I His fame rests upon his plays, of which he said he had writter wholly or in part no less than two hundred and twenty.

Seeking the food he eats

And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

As You Like It

CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.

How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought
And simple truth his utmost skill!

Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Not tied unto the world with care
Of public fame, or private breath;

Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good:

Who hath his life from rumors freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make accusers great,

Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day
With a well-chosen book or friend;

This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And, having nothing, yet hath all.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.1

WINTER.

WHEN icicles hang by the wall

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
And Tom bears logs into the hall

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,

Tu-who, a merry note,

Tu-whit;

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow

And coughing drowns the parson's saw

1 SIR HENRY WOTTON was born at Boughton Hall, Kent (England), in 1568. He was educated at Oxford, where he showed a taste for poetry. After graduation he was employed in the diplomatic service and passed nine years on the Continent. On his return he became secretary to the Earl of Essex, and retired to Italy when his patron fell from power and was beheaded. He again returned to England on the accession of James I., who knighted him and employed him on several important foreign missions. He was made Provost of Eton College in 1627, and retained this office until his death, in 1639. He is best known as statesman and diplomatist. His prose writings included political essays and memoirs. His poems were composed solely for his own amusement, but several of them, like that in the text, have great beauty of thought.

And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,

Tu-who, a merry note,

Tu-whit;

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Love's Labour's Lost.

SONG.

TELL me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourishèd?
Reply, reply.

It is engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.

Let us all ring fancy's knell:
I'll begin it, — Ding-dong, bell.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
Merchant of Venice

FAIRY'S SONG.

OVER hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere,

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be:
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors,
In those freckles live their savors:
I must go seek some dewdrops here
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:
Our queen and all our elves come here ancn
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Midsummer Night's Dream.

SONG OF THE FAIRIES.

You spotted snakes with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,
Come not near our fairy queen.

Philomel, with melody

Sing in our sweet lullaby :

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby :

Never harm,

Nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;
So good-night, with lullaby.

Weaving spiders, come not here;

Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!

Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm nor snail, do no offence.

Philomel, with melody, etc.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Midsummer Night's Dream.