o the wingéd nyx!
thou heed’st thy mind fatigued,
and slumber seek’st.

phoebus doth await,
soon to arise, lucent form!
such is destiny.

and will i wake then,
to hail his or-coated rays,
to greet day's creatures.

lark, thy song sweet come!
diurnal clarity, come!
when day alas dawns.