The Angler's Reveille BY HENRY VAN DYKE What time the rose of dawn is laid across the lips of night, And all the drowsy little stars have fallen asleep in light; ' Tis then a wandering wind awakes, and runs from tree to tree. And borrows words from all the birds to sound the reveille. This is the carol the Robin throws Over the edge of the valley; Listen how boldly it flows, Sally on sally: Tirra-Iin-a, dmvn the river, Laughing water all a-qtiiver. Day is near, clear, clear. Fish are breaking, Time for ivaking. Tup, tup, tup! Do ou hear? All clear. 'jj'ahe up.' The phantom flood of dreams has ebbed and vanished with the dark, And like a dove the heart forsakes the prison of the ark; Now forth she fares through friendly woods and diamond-fields of dew. While every voice cries out "Rejoice!" as if the world were new. This is the ballad the Bluebird sings, Unto his mate replying. Shaking the tune from his wings While he is flying: Surely, surely, surely, Life is dear Even here. Blue above, You to loi'e. Purely, purely, purely. (150)
