The Blush of Morn Is on the Brine

 Song of the Fairies to the Sea-Nymphs
by Anna Seward 

 Hasten, from your coral caves,
 Every nymph that sportive laves
 In the green sea's oozy wells,
 And gilds the fins, and spots the shells!
 Hasten, and our morrice join,
 Ere the gaudy morning shine! 

 Rising from the foamy wave,
 Instant now your aid we crave;
 Come, and trip like our gay band,
 Traceless on the amber sand.
 Haste! or we must hence away,
 Yet an hour, and all is day! 

 At your bidding, from our feet
 Shall the ocean monsters fleet,
Sea-nettle and sting-fish glide
 Back upon the refluent tide.
 Haste! the dawn has streak'd the cloud,
 Haste! the village cock has crow'd. 

 See! the clouds of night retire,
 Hesper gleams with languid fire!
 Quickly then our revel join,
 The blush of morn is on the brine!
 Loiterers, we must hence away,
 Yonder breaks the orb of day.