Poem by William Davenant

Aubade

THE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest,
   And climbing shakes his dewy wings.
He takes this window for the East,
   And to implore your light he sings--
Awake, awake! the morn will never rise
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.

The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,
   The ploughman from the sun his season takes,
But still the lover wonders what they are
   Who look for day before his mistress wakes.
Awake, awake! break thro' your veils of lawn!
Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn! 

1. For the Lady Olivia Porter; a Present upon a New-years Day
2. The Christians Reply to the Phylosopher
3. Life and Death
4. Weep No More for What Is Past
5. Ladies in Arms

Madison Cawein Aubade ("Awake! the dawn is on the hills!")

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