Hark! Hark! The Lark!
(Cloten’s Song)
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings,
And Phœbus ‘gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs,
On chalic’d flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;
With every thing that pretty bin;
My lady sweet, arise.