Sir William D'a Venant[1606-1668]Dawn Song
¶THE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest,And climbing shakes his dewy wings.He takes this window for the East,And to implore your light he sings—Awake , awake! the morn will never riseTill she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
¶The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,The ploughman from the sun his season takes;But still the lover wonders what they areWho look for day before his mistress wakes.Awake , awake! break thro' your veils of lawn!Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn !