Dawn on the fills, and in the quickening skies
In flooding splendor lies!
Primrose and daffodil, in shifting light,
Cresting the cresting height,
While all the silken water-ways beneath
Glow in a golden sheath.
The little wandering winds of morning pass
Along the grass,
And insect stir and whir
Begin, with rustling wings, and chirp and chirr,
And downy, drowsy bees
Dip in the nectar-deeps of blossom-seas.

Mid-sky a lark, a joy incarnate, trills;
The slopes with poppies burn;
There is a murmurous monotone of rills
That all the air with lulling music fills-
And in the velvet hollows of the hills
An emerald mist of fern.
Dawn on the hills-and sweet with its night shower
The world in flower!