Up in the Morning Early

Pretty flowers, tell me why

All your leaves do open wide,

Every morning, when on high

The noble sun begins to ride?

This is why, my children dear,

If you would the reason know;

For betimes the pleasant air

Very cheerfully does blow:

And the birds on every tree

Sing a very merry tune,

And the little honey-bee

Comes to suck her sugar soon:

This is all the reason why

I my little leaves undo;

Children, children, wake and try

If I have not told you true.