The Shrike
Hark—hark—from out the thickest fog
Warbles with might and main
The fearless shrike, as all agog
To find in fog his gain.
His steady sail he never furls
At any time o' year,
And perched now on winter's curls,
He whistles in his ear.
Warbles with might and main
The fearless shrike, as all agog
To find in fog his gain.
His steady sail he never furls
At any time o' year,
And perched now on winter's curls,
He whistles in his ear.
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