Classic Poem

I.

Already , see, the larks begin
To hail the Morning-rise,
And wakefu' S ANDY , heartless, waits
The dawning of thine eyes.
The dawning of them eyes, so bright,
That pierc'd his bosom thro',
Mild as the blue cloud's wat'ry light,
Or, rainbow's radiant hue,
Will you na'ope the door, my love,
Will you na' let me in,
Who, weeping, wait, the glance of fate,
From your twa' een.

II.

The thistle, trembling to the gale,
Hath nai sic thorns as love?
Love, like a rose-bud, sweetly blooms,
But oft doth canker prove.
Yet, Peggy, thou so tender art,
Thou feel'st the slight'st woe,
Thou did'st e'en soothe my Blackbird's heart;
And did'st sweet tears bestow.
Will you na' ope the door, my Love,
Will you na' let me in?
For sure you will nai' let me die,
By your twa' een.