The Flower and the Lady, about getting up.

Pretty flower, tell me why

All your leaves do open wide,

Every morning, when on high

The noble sun begins to ride.

This is why, my lady fair,

If you would the reason know,

For betimes the pleasant air

Very cheerfully doth blow.

And the birds on every tree,

Sing a merry, merry tune,

And the busy honey-bee

Comes to suck my sugar soon.

This is all the reason why

I my little leaves undo:

Lady, lady, wake and try

If I have not told you true.