ON EARLY RISING

Why not rise with dawn, my Lady?

Why miss these sweet hours?

Come with me: the ghyll is shady,

Carpeted with flowers;

Why miss these sweet hours?

Now thou liest a-bed, my jewel,

How canst thou still sleep?

To encase thyself is cruel —

Beauty thus to keep.

How canst thou still sleep?

At this hour, my simple lover,

I prefer to rest

Than to watch the tireless plover

Rise from dewy nest;

I prefer to rest.

Beauty such as mine, my lover,

( This I know is right )

Even thou wilt soon discover

Is more meet for night

( This I know is right ).

In the daytime chirp the thrushes;

But the nightingale

Waits until the moonlit hushes

To pour forth her tale;

Wiser nightingale!