THE CHILD IN THE STORY AWAKES

The light of dawn rose on my dreams,

And from afar I seemed to hear

In sleep the mellow blackbird call

Hollow and sweet and clear.

I prythee, Nurse, my casement open,

Wildly the garden peals with singing,

And hooting through the dewy pines

The goblins all are winging.

O listen the droning of the bees,

That in the roses take delight!

And see a cloud stays in the blue

Like an angel still and bright.

The gentle sky is spread like silk,

And, Nurse, the moon doth languish there,

As if it were a perfect jewel

In the morning's soft-spun hair.

The greyness of the distant hills

Is silvered in the lucid East,

See, now the sheeny-plumèd cock

Wags haughtily his crest.

‘ O come you out, O come you out,

Lily, and lavender, and lime;

The kingcup swings his golden bell,

And plumpy cherries drum the time.

‘ O come you out, O come you out!

Roses, and dew, and mignonette,

The sun is in the steep blue sky,

Sweetly the morning star is set.’