Who scorns his couch should earn, by rights,
A world of pleasant sounds and sights
That vanish with the dew.

Bright Phosphor, from his watch released,
Now fading from the purple East--
The morning waxing stronger;
The comely cock that vainly strives
To crow from sleep his drowsy wives,
Who would be dosing longer.

Uxorious Chanticleer! and hark!
Upraise thine eyes, and find the lark,
That matutine musician,
Who heavenward soars on rapture's wings,
Though sought, unseen, who mounts, and sings
In musical derision.

A daughter hast'ning to prepare
Her father's humble morning fare--
The sturdy reaper's meal.
In russet gown and apron blue,
The daughter sings; like "Lucy," too,
She plies her spinning-wheel.

Anon the early reaper hies
To waving fields that clasp the skies,
Broad sheets of sunlit water.
All these were heard or seen by one
Who stole a march upon that sun,
And then--upon that Daughter!

This dainty maid, the hamlet's pride,
A lambkin trotting at her side,
Then hied her through the park;
A fond and gentle foster-dam--
May be she slumbered with her lamb,
Thus rising with the lark!

The lambkin frisk'd, the damsel fain
Would wile him back,--she called in vain.
The truant gamboll'd farther:
One follow'd for the maiden's sake,
A pilgrim in an Angel's wake--
A happy pilgrim, rather.

The maid gave chase, the lambkin ran,
As only woolly vagrant can,
Who never felt a crook;
But stay'd at length, as 'twere disposed
To drink, where tawny sands disclosed
The margent of a brook.

His mistress, who had follow'd fast,
Cried, "Little rogue, you're caught at last;
I'm fleeter, Sir, than you."
Then straight the wanderer convey'd
Where tangled shrubs, in branching shade,
Protected her from view--

Of all save one. She glanced around,
All fearful lest the slightest sound
Might mortal footfall be.
Then shrinkingly she stepped aside
One moment, and her garter tied
The truant to a tree.

Perhaps the world may wish to know
The hue of this delightful bow,
And how it might be placed:
No, not from him, he only knows--
It might be purple, blue, or rose,--
'Twas tied--with maiden taste.

Suffice it that the nymph was fair,
With dove-like eyes, an