Christina G. Rossetti

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
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The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.

O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
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O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
Too gladsome in thy singing,
Thou also soon shalt lie
Where no sweet notes are ringing.

Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtile virtue read more

Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtile virtue lies
Within my cup of curious dyes.

Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nestled there;
My trees were full on songs and flowers and fruit,
Their read more

Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nestled there;
My trees were full on songs and flowers and fruit,
Their branches spread a city to the air.

The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear,
And Paradise hath room for you and me and read more

The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear,
And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.