On some it has a classic mien,
Fair Grecian or bold Roman;
On some ’tis flat, on some I ween
’Twould answer for a gnomon!
The water fowl which swims the pond,
Or bathes in ocean briny,
The dove that coos her ditty fond,
My first doth have, yet tiny.
My second is a vowel plain;
My third an exclamation,
Upon the music scale again
It holdeth goodly station.
My whole, ah, look in yonder sky,
And you will see it gleaming,
Less clear, perchance, because more shy,
Than stars so brilliant beaming.
The telescope will make how bright
Its timid, shrinking beauties!
And bring to mortal ken, the light
Of its revolving duties.
[6]
Awake, idle sleeper. Up! up! and arise,
Already my first hath made vocal the skies.
Arouse thee! arouse thee! mount horse, and away;
For long is the journey before thee to-day.
Forget not my second, when weary thy steed,
By that shalt thou urge on his lingering speed
For many a forest and ford must be passed,
Before thou shalt reach thine own cottage, at last.
And ere though thine own cottage garden thou’lt tread,
The dews of the night on my whole shall be shed,
On my beautiful whole, yet less blue and less bright,
Than the eyes which will meet thee with glistening delight.