The Recorder
It was not dawn; in the full day
I drowsed my wits in sleep,
And let the rich world steal away,
Without a song to keep.
Then from a dripping timber-stack,
Where the wild thistle grew,
Spreading his scarlet plumes and black,
Again the loud cock crew.
I drowsed my wits in sleep,
And let the rich world steal away,
Without a song to keep.
Then from a dripping timber-stack,
Where the wild thistle grew,
Spreading his scarlet plumes and black,
Again the loud cock crew.
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