"TRICO singeth: What Bird so sings, yet so dos wayle? O t’is the ravish’d Nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, tereu, shee cryes, And still her woes at Midnight rise. Brave prick song! who is’t now we heare? None but the Larke so shrill and cleare; Now at heavens gats she claps her wings, The Morne not waking till shee sings. Heark, heark, with what a pretty throat Poore Robin red-breast tunes his note; Heark how the jolly Cuckoes sing Cuckoe, to welcome in the spring, Cuckoe, to welcome in the spring."