The Rising of the Sun

Wake! wake! wake to the hunting!
Wake ye, wake! the morning is nigh
Chilly the breezes blow
Up from the sea below,
Chilly the twilight creeps over the sky!
Mark how fast the stars are fading!
Mark how wide the dawn is spreading!
Many a fallow deer
Feeds in the forest near;
Now is no time on the heather to lie!

Rise, rise! look on the ocean!
Rise ye, rise, and look on the sky!
Softly the vapours sweep
Over the level deep,
Softly the mists on the waterfall lie!
In the cloud red tints are glowing,
On the hill the black cock 's crowing;
And through the welkin red
See where he lifts his head,
(Forth to the hunting!) the sun 's riding high!