The Harmony of Birds

While researching the origins of the folk tune “The Bird Song,” I came across an old poem called “A Proper New Boke of the Armony of Byrdes,” printed by John Wight, circa 1530-1555.

The only known copy of this text is at the Huntington Library, Call Number 88841. The STC number is 3368.2 and the ESTC number is S104627. Early English Books Online has digitized the original here, but the digitization is not in the public domain and can only be viewed if you have institutional access.

The text was reprinted in two publications which are in the public domain and viewable online. First, by the Percy Society in 1843 in The Harmony of Birds: A Poem. From the only known copy, printed by John Wight in the middle of the sixteenth century. With an introduction and notes. Second, in William Carew Hazlitt’s 1866 Remains of the Early Popular Poetry of England, starting on p. 184.

In his 1984 book Two Early Renaissance Bird Poems, however, Malcolm Andrew notes that, “the two nineteenth-century texts (Collier and Hazlitt) have no independent value. Neither is particularly accurate, and errors in these texts are not recorded.” He dates the poem to circa 1530 – 1555. In addition to providing a great amount of background and context for the text, he also provides his own transcription of the text from the original. If this genre is interesting to you, I strongly recommend reading his book, which you can borrow by the hour from Archive.org.

Given the limited accessibility of the primary text and the inaccuracies of the reprints, I decided to make my own transcription of the poem from the original and share it in its entirety here.

Whan Dame Flora
In die aurora
Had couerd ye medowes with flowers
And all the fylde
Was ouer distylde
With lusty Aprell showers.

I for my disporte
Me to conforte
Whan the day began to spring
Foorth I went
With a good intent
To here the Byrdes syng,

I was not past
Not a stones cast
So nygh as I could deme
But I dyd se
A goodly tree
Within an herbor grene.

Wheron dyd lyght
Byrdes as thycke
As sterres in the skye
Praisyng our lorde
Without discorde
With goodly armony.

The Popyngay
Than fyrst dyd say
Hoc didicit per me
Emperour and kyng
[?]hont lettyng
Discite semper a me.

Therfore wyll I
The name magnify
Of God above all names
And fyrst begyn
In praisyng to him
This song. Te desi laudamus.

Then sang the Auys
Called the Mauys
The treble in ellamy
That from the ground
Her notes round
Were herde into the skye

Than all the rest
At her request
Both Meane, Basse, et Tenur
With her dyd respond
This glorious song
Te dominum confitemur.

The Partryge sayd
It may not be denayd
But that I vse my bath
In flood and land
In earth and sand
In highway and in path.

Than with the erth
Wyll I make merth
Accordyng to my nature
She tuned then
Te eternum patrem
Omnis terra veneratur.

Than sayd the Pecocke
All ye well wot
I syng not musicall
For my brest is decayd
Yet I hane he sayd
Fethers Angelicall

He sang Tibi
Omnes angeli
Tibi celi he dyd reherse
[?]t vniuersi
[?]ot estates on hye
And so concluded the verse,

Than sayd the Nightyngale
To make shorte tale
For wordes I do refuse
Because my delyght
Both day and nyght
Is syngyng for to vse.

Tibi Cherubin
Et Seraphin
Full goodly she dyd chaunt
With notes merely
Incessabile
Uoce proclamant

Than sang the Thrusshe
Sanctus Sanctus
Sanctus with a solempne note
In latynn thus
Dominus deus
In Hebrew Sabaoth.

Than sayd the Larke
Bycause my parte
Is vpward to ascend
And downe to rebound
Toward the ground
Singyng to discend.

Than after my wunt
Pleni sunt
Celi et terra quod she
Shall be my song
On briefe and long
Maiestatis glorie tue

The Cocke dyd say
I vse alway
To crow both fyrst and last
Lyke a Postle I am
For I preche to man
And tell him the nyght is past.

I bring new tidynges
That the kyng of all kynges
In tactu profudit chorus
[T]han sang he mellodius
[T]e gloriosus
Apostolorum chorus

Than sayd the Pye
I do phrophecye
Than may I well syng thus
Sub vmba a alarum
Te prophetarum
Laudabilis numerus.

Than the byrdes all
Domesticall
All at once dyd crye
For mankyndes sake
Both erly and late
We be all redy to dye

Te martyrum
Both all and sum
They sang mellifluus
Candidatus so bright
One god of myght
Laudat exercitus.

Than the Red brest
His tunes redrest
And sayd now wyll I holde
With the church for there
Out of the ayere
I kepe me from the colde

Te per orbem terratum
In vsum sarum
He sange cum gloria
Sancta was nexte
And than the hole texte
Confitetur ecclesia

Then the Egle spake
Ye know my estate
That I am lorde and kyng
Therfore wyll I
To the father only
Gyue laude and praisyng.

He toke his flyght
To the sonnes lyght
Oculis aure verberatis
[P]atrem he sang
[T]hat all the wood rang
Immense maiestatis.

Than sayd the Phenix
There is none such
As I, but I alone
Nor the father I proue
Reygnyng aboue
Hath no mo sonnes but one

With tunes mylde
I sang that chylde
Uenerandum verum
And his name dyd reherse
In the ende of the verse
Et vnicum filium

Than sayd the Doue
Scripture doth proue
That from the Deite
The holy spiright
On Christ dyd lyght
In lykenesse of me

And syth the Spiright
From heuen bright
Lyke unto me dyd come
I wyll syng quod she
Sanctum quoq[ue]
Paracletum spiritum

Than all in one voyce
They dyd all reioyce
Omnes vox iste
Chaungyng their key
From vt to rey
Et tu rex glorie Christe

Than sayd the wren
I am called the hen
Of our lady most cumly
Than of her sun
My notes shall run
For the loue of that lady

By tytle and ryght
The son of myght
She dyd hym well discus
Tu patris syngyng
Witout any endying
Sempiternus es filius

The Tytle trew
With notes new
The lady of chastyte
Of a vyrgins wombe
Was all her songe
And of manes lybertye

Tu ad liberandum
Et saluandum
Hominem perditum
Non horruisti
Sed eligisti
Uirginis vterum

Than sayd the Pellycane
Whan my byrdts be slayne
With my bloude I them reuyu[e]
Scrypture doth record
The same dyd our lord
And rose from deth to lyue.

She sange Tu deuicto
Mortis aculeo
Ut dominus dominorum
Tu ascendisti
Et apparuisti
Credentibus regna celorum.

The Osyll dyd pricke
Her notes all thyke
With blacke ynke and with red
And in lyke facyion
With Christ in his passyon
Frō the fote to the crown of ye hed.

But now he doth raygne
With his father agayne
In dextera Maiestatis
Than sang she with ioye
Tu ad dexteram dei
Sedes in gloria patris

The Swalowes syng swete
To man we be mete
For with him we do buylde
Lyke as from aboue
God for mannes loue
Was borne of a mayden mylde

We come and go
As Christ shall do
To iudge both great and small
They sang for this
Iudex crederis
Esse venturus all.

Than in prostracion
They made oration
To christ that died upō the rood
To haue mercy on those
For whom he chose
To shed his precious blood

Te ergo quesumus
We pray the Iesus
Famulos tuos subueni
Ab omni doloso
Quos precioso
Sanguine redemisti

The Haukes dyd syng
Their belles dyd ryng
Thei said they came frō the towe[r]
We hold with the kyng
And wyll for him syng
To God, day, nyght et hower,

The Sparrowes dyd tell
That Christ in his Gospell
A texte of theym dyd purpose
Suis heredibus
Multis pastoribus
Meliores estis vos.

They fell downe flat
With Saluum fac
Populum tuum domine
In heuen to sit
Et benedic
Hereditate tue

Than all dyd respond
Lorde, helpe at hond
Ne cadant ad infernum
Et rege eos
Et extolle illos
Us[que] ineternum.

They toke their flyght
Prayeng for the ryght
And thus their prayer began
Pater noster qui es
Per singulos dies
Benedicimus te, god and man.

Et laudamus
Et gloriosus
Nomen tuum so hye
In seculum here
In this militant quere
Et in seculum seculi.

They dyd begyn
To pray that syn
Shuld clene from vs exire
Dignare domine
Die isto sine
Peccato nos custodire.

With supplication
They made intercessyon
And sang, Misere nostri
Rehersyng this texte
In english next
Lorde on vs haue mercy.

Than dyd they prepare
Awat for to fare
And all at once arose
Singyng in Ara
Fiat misericodia tua
Domine seper nos.

With tunes renude
They dyd conclude
Whan they away should flye
To syng all and sum
Quemadmodum
Sperauimus in te.

Than dyd I go
Where I came fro
And euer I dyd pretend
Not to tary long
But of this song
To make a fynall ende

I says In te domine
Speraui cotidie
That I fall not in infernum
And than with thy grace
After this place
Non confunder ineternum,
Finis,
Imprinted at Londō by John
Wyght dwelling in Poules church
yarde at the Sygne of the Rose.

A Proper New Boke of the Armony of Byrdes, printed by John Wight, circa 1551-1559