Charles Hubert Hastings Parry - Ye little birds that sit and sing - текст песни (слова)

Ye little birds that sit and sing 
Amidst the shady valleys, 
And see how Phyllis 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.  
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; 
 

 Go tune your voices' harmony 
And sing, I am her lover; 
Strain loud and sweet, that ev'ry note 
With sweet content may move her: 
And she that hath the sweetest voice, 
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 pretty wantons warble. 
 

 
 Lyrics: Thomas Heywood - ( c 1575 - c 1650 )