Martyn Bates - From Dewey Dreams, My Soul Arise | Текст песни

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• Martyn Bates
• From Dewey Dreams, My Soul Arise

From dewy dreams, my soul, arise
From love's deep slumber and from death,
For lo! the trees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.

Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Where softly-burning fires appear,
Making to tremble all those veils
Of grey and golden gossamer.

While sweetly, gently, secretly,
The flowery bells of morn are stirret
And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.

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