Aubado

In the hush of the morn before the sun

I waken to think of thee

And all the sweet day thus begun

As hallowed sees to be.

In the holly repose the morning star

With trembling awaits the sun,

And thus my heart if near or far

Awaits thee, sweetest one.

In a golden ecstasy of bliss

The fair morning star wil die

But I immortal by thy kiss

Live but when thou art nigh.