He surely had an [The] Awakening...
Arise, my heart! The lark is already singing,
shaking its wings in the sunlight.
Cast off sleep, my heart, for the violet
is raising to God the incense of its awakening.
Each living, well-rested flower
opens in turn its eyes to see
in its chalice a dewdrop,
pearl of a day, its mirror.
We sense in the pure air that the angel of the roses
has passed in the night to bless the flowers.
All of them have opened for him,
who comes from on high to refresh their colours.
So arise! Since the lark is already singing,
shaking its wings in the sunlight,
nothing remains asleep, my heart, for the violet
is raising to God the incense of its awakening.
by Honoré de Balzac (you can work that out?)
http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=2111