Ii

Before the rathe song-sparrow sings Among the haw-trees in the lane, And to the wind the locust flings Its early clusters fresh with rain; Beyond the morning-star, that swings Its rose of fire above the spire, Between the morning’s watchet wings, A wild voice rings o’er brooks and boughs-- “Arouse! arouse!”

Before the first brown owlet cries Among the grape-vines on the hill, And in the dam with half-shut eyes The lilies rock above the mill; Beyond the oblong moon, that flies, A pearly flower, above the tower, Between the twilight’s primrose skies, A soft voice sighs, from east to west-- “To rest! to rest!”