Goodmorrow

You that have spent the silent night

In sleep and quiet rest,

And joy to see the cheerful light

That riseth in the east;

Now clear your voice, now cheer your heart,

Come help me now to sing:

Each willing wight, come bear a part,

To praise the heav'nly King.

And you whom care in prison keeps,

Or sickness doth suppress,

Or secret sorrow breaks your sleep,

Or dolours do distress;

Yet bear a part in doleful wise,

Yea, think it good accord

And an acceptable sacrifice,

Each sprite to praise the Lord.

The little birds which sing so sweet

Are like the angels' voice,

Which render God his praises meet

And teach us to rejoice:

And as they more esteem that mirth

That dread the night's annoy,

So much we deem our days on earth

But hell to heav'nly joy.

Unto which joys for us to attain,

God grant us all his grace,

And send us, after worldly pain,

In heaven to have a place,

Where we may still enjoy that light,

Which never shall decay:

Lord, for thy mercy, lend us might

To see that joyful day.

The rainbow bending in the sky,

Bedeck'd with sundry hues,

Is like the seat of God on high,

And seems to tel these news:

That as thereby He promisèd

To drown the world in no more,

So by the blood which Christ hath shed,

He will our health restore.