EARLY WALKS.
Who talks of the pleasure of treading the fields,
When morning is fresh in the skies?
Be sure that he walked with poetical feet
And saw with poetical eyes.
Be sure that all people who rave
Of the beauty of day at its break,
Of the dawn that comes radiant in purple and gold
Are the last to arise for its sake.
When morning is fresh in the skies?
Be sure that he walked with poetical feet
And saw with poetical eyes.
Be sure that all people who rave
Of the beauty of day at its break,
Of the dawn that comes radiant in purple and gold
Are the last to arise for its sake.
'Tis charming to wake with the blush of the morn,
'Tis charming, so poets may sing,
To wander when day o'er the diamond-dropped earth
Just flutters her delicate wing;
'Tis charming, so poets may sing,
To wander when day o'er the diamond-dropped earth
Just flutters her delicate wing;
