Hark!Hark!The Lark/Shakespeare

HARK! HARK! THE LARK

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin

To open their golden eyes:

With everything that pretty bin,

My lady sweet, arise!

William Shakespeare

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