Bids us, Fairies, haste away.
Fairy guardians, watching o’er
Flowers of tender blossom,
Chilling damps descend no more,
And the flow’ret’s bosom,
Opening to th’ approaching day,
Bids ye, Fairies, haste away.
Hark! the lonely bird of night
Stays its notes of sadness;
Early birds, that hail the light,