Classic Poem

Behold, my fair, the ruddy morn
Anticipate the day:
What beauteous tints the sky adorn,
And gild the azure way!

The sombre mists, which gloomy night
Had gather'd in the vale,
Are born aloft, and wing their flight
Before the rising gale.

Now chang'd to clouds of varied hue,
In airy maze they dance;
Now sweep athwart the welkin blue,
And gem the gay expanse.

The plumy tenant of the grove
Is perch'd on yonder spray,
And serenades his little love
With sweetest roundelay.

To taste the pleasures of the morn
Is bliss without alloy,
Though Fashion's drowsy vot'ries scorn
To quaff the cup of Joy.

But rise, my lovely charmer, rise
To greet the early ray,
And let my T ERAMINTA'S eyes
Add lustre to the day.