Day, a Pastoral (1814)/Morning

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MORNING.

DAY,

A PASTORAL.

 
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In the barn the tenant cock,
 Close to partlet perch'd on high,
Briskly crows, (the shepherd's clock!)
 Jocund that the morning's nigh.

 
Morning.—The rising Sun.
 
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Swiftly from the mountain's brow,
 Shadows, nurs'd by Night, retire,
And the peeping sun-beam, now,
 Paints with gold the village spire.

 
Morning.—The Lark.
 
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Philomel forsakes the thorn,
 Plaintive where she prates at night;
And the lark, to meet the morn,
 Soars beyond the shepherd's sight.

 
Morning.—The Swallow.
 
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From the low-roof'd cottage ridge
 See the chatt'ring swallow spring;
Darting thro' the one-arch'd bridge,
 Quick she dips her dappled wing.

 
Morning.—The Pine Trees.
 
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Now the pine-tree's waving top
 Gently greets the morning gale!
Kidlings, now, begin to crop
 Daisies in the dewy vale.

 
Morning.—The Busy Bees.
 
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From the balmy sweets, uncloy'd,
 (Restless till her task be done)
Now the busy bee's employ'd
 Sipping dew before the sun.

 
Morning.—Refreshment.
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Trickling thro' the crevic'd rock,
 Where the limpid stream distils,
Sweet refreshment waits the flock
 When 'tis sun-drove from the hills.

 
Morning.—The Chase.
 
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Colin for the promis'd corn,
 (Ere the harvest hopes are ripe)
Anxious hears the huntsman's horn,
 Boldly sounding, drown his pipe.

 
Morning.—The white emblossom'd Spray.
 
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Sweet, O sweet, the warbling throng
 On the white emblossom'd spray!
Nature's universal song
 Echoes to the rising day.