A Morning Song for Imogen
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise';
His steeds to water at those springs
On chalic'd flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet arise:
Arise, arise.
William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
