Stilly, soft falls morning dew,
The world is hushed and viewers few.
The birds do chirp and sing and tell,
Monks rise to ring the steeple bell.
All is fresh and new and bright,
And glows with faintly pulsing light--
'Til clocks ring six and up we rise,
Underneath black starless skies.
While Earth sleeps we do awake,
And with our coffee try to fake,
Even though we cannot see
For the sleep which clouds our sight
From our interrupted night.
Up and at the crack of dawn
We trek across the dewy lawn
To get the the bus stop on time
In a wintry wettish clime.
We're off to grow up smart and bold--
Well, at least that's what we're told.