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Percy Bysshe Shelley


Day had awakened all things that be,

The lark, and the thrush, and the swallow free,

And the milkmaid's song, and the mower's scythe,

And the matin bell and the mountain bee:

Fireflies were quenched on the dewy corn,

Glow-worms went out, on the river's brim,

Like lamps which a student forgets to trim;

The beetle forgot to wind his horn,

The crickets were still in the meadow and hill

Like a flock of rooks at a farmer's gun,

Night's dreams and terrors, every one

Fled from the brains which are its prey,

From the lamp's death to the morning ray.