From soft dewy slumber,
Mid darkness and night,
Each flower opes its eyelid
To gaze on thy light.
The dew-drops of morning,
Which spangle the vale,
To honour thy coming
As incense exhale.
Gay birds of the woodland
Aroused by thy ray,
From soft dewy slumber,
Mid darkness and night,
Each flower opes its eyelid
To gaze on thy light.
The dew-drops of morning,
Which spangle the vale,
To honour thy coming
As incense exhale.
Gay birds of the woodland
Aroused by thy ray,