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 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
Charade No. 11.
Awake, ye sleepers!
My first hath sung his loud reveille,
And wakened through the glistening dale
The early reapers.
My first hath sung his loud reveille,
And wakened through the glistening dale
The early reapers.
Why will ye linger?
Is it no second that ye hear
The morning hymn, so glad and clear,
Of that wise singer?
Is it no second that ye hear
267
Of that wise singer?
Come forth, nor tarry!
And track the busy-wingèd bee,
Who from my whole right joyously
Sweet spoil doth carry.
And track the busy-wingèd bee,
Who from my whole right joyously
Sweet spoil doth carry.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |