I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber . . .

I must go seek some dew-drops here,And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

Dew-drops are the gems of morning, But the tears of mournful eve!

Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die. The sun insists on gladness; but at night, When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.