Waking the echoes lone,
Bids woodland glades prolong
Her sweetly tuneful song;
Till sky-lark blithe and linnet grey,
From fallow brown and meadow gay,
Pour forth their jocund roundelay;
Till ‘cowslip, wan’ and ‘daisies pied’
’Broider the hillock’s side,
And opening hawthorn buds are seen,
Decking each hedge-row screen?