Song Of Morning

I come, the maiden Morning,
With pearls about my hair.
I am so young, so elfin young,
And yet have many a task fulfilled
Before the older heads have willed
To call the day begun.
I’ve clad the hills in purple,
And freshened all the air,
For every bud a flower hung,
A dewy kiss the grasses flung,
And waked the sleepy sun.
I’ve hurried up the little birds,
And brought the breezes out,
And made them toss the forest’s hair
And put the bats to rout.
So now, good mortals, you may rise.
Come out and greet me, glad of eyes,—
I’ve made all fair, all fair.