The lark now leaves his watery nest, And climbing shakes his dewy wings. He takes this window for the East, And to implore your light he sings -- Awake, awake! the morn will never rise Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes; But still the lover wonders what they are Who look for the day before his mistress wakes. Awake, awake! break through your veils of lawn! Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 7 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE MORAL WARFARE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO A WOMAN by KENNETH SLADE ALLING LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 9. GOING TO THE FAIR by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE KNIGHTS: DEMOS AND HIS FLATTERER by ARISTOPHANES |