Love’s Sunrise.
The lark leaves the earth
With the dew on his breast,
And my love’s at the birth,
And my life’s at the best.
What bliss shall I bid the beam bring
thee
To-day, love ?
What care shall I bid the breeze fling thee
Away, love
?
What song shall I bid the bird sing thee,
O say, love
?
For the beam and the breeze
And the birds—all of these
(Because thou hast loved me) my bidding obey,
love.
Now the lark’s in the light,
And the dew on the bough ;
And my heart’s at the height
Of the day that dawns now.