University of Virginia Library


248

THE LOVER'S CALL.

Up, my maiden, and bind your hair,
Up, and inhale the morning air;
Over the meadow, and brush the dew,
And the odours of morning shall breathe for you.
Up, and welcome the freshful morn;
Instead of the beetle to wind his horn,
Hark! where the hum of the golden bee
Directs to the flowers I'll cull for thee.
Up, and away where the May-bud blooms,
Where the glittering glow-worm at night illumes;
But now the dew sparkles, with diamond sheen,
On the blossom that shall on your breast be seen.
Up, for the lark has commenc'd his song;
Up, for morn's loveliness beams not long;
Your own chaste emblems arise and see,
For yours are morn's sweetness and purity.