Henry Vaughan

“ Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.
Awake! awake! hark how th' wood rings,
Winds whisper, and the busy springs
A concert make!
Awake! awake!
Man is their high-priest, and should rise
To offer up the sacrifice. ”

“ Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day. ”