Classic Poem

The sun is flooding the eastern sky
With a blaze of silver light!
The fresh green foliage, waving high,
Is fringed with a flame of white;
And far above, from the topmost air,
The showering lark-notes break;
And the spirit of beauty floats everywhere —
Sweet my lady, awake!

A slow breeze steals o'er the dewy land,
From its home in the dreamy South,
And scatters a perfume on every hand
As sweet as the breath of your mouth;
And the tremulous boughs, as they bend and sway,
A murmurous music make;
And bright on the brooklet the sunbeams play —
Sweet my lady, awake!

The river that lay in its dusky repose
Through the long lone hours of night,
Now laughs in the lustre that sunrise throws,
And ripples in rosy light;
And the hills that loomed like shadowy ghosts
A clearer outline take;
And the white sails glimmer along the coasts —
Dear my lady, awake!

The violet lifts its eye of blue
To the bending blue above;
And the roses, bathed in a drench of dew,
Are breathing of beauty and love;
And the lily stoops its head to kiss
Its shadow within the lake —
Oh, never was morning so lovely as this!
Dear my lady, awake!

Awake! for a music is flooding the air,
And melting along the deep.
When nature is all awake and so fair,
Oh, why should my lady sleep?
A passionate sigh begins to start
From the depth of each thicket and brake —
A sigh that finds echo within my heart —
Oh, sweet my lady, awake!

Awake! and come where the zephyr moves
In ripples across the grass:
Awake! and come to the lake that loves
To mirror your form as you pass;
And come, oh, come, to the heart that pines
And languishes for your sake;
And bright eyes shall blind each dewdrop that shines —
Dear my lady, awake!