Serenade

Awake thee, my Lady-love!
Wake thee, and rise!
The sun through the bower peeps
Into thine eyes!

Behold how the early lark
Springs from the corn!
Hark, hark how the flower-bird
Winds her wee horn!

The swallow's glad shriek is heard
All through the air!
The stock-dove is murmuring
Loud as she dare!

Then wake thee, my Lady-love!
Bird of my bower!
The sweetest and sleepiest
Bird at this hour.
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