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On the Morning
#1
On the Morning

Rings the shrill peal of dawn gay chanticleer,
Thrice warning that the day-star climbs on high,
And pales his beam as Phoebus' car draws nigh.
Now ere the lawns or distant cribs appear,

Or ere the crows from wattled sheepcote veer
Their early flight, or wakeful herdsman's eye
Discerns the smoky hamlet, let me ply
My dayly task, to guide the labouring steer,

Plant the low shrub, remove the' unsightly mound,
Or nurse the flower, or tend the humming swarms.
Thus ever with the Morn may I be found,

Far from the hunter-band's discordant yell;
So in my breast Content and Health shall dwell
And conscious Bliss, and love of Nature's charms.
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