The cock shall crow In the morning grey, The bugles blow At the break of day: The cock shall sing and the merry bugles ring, And all the little brown birds sing upon the spray. The thorn shall blow In the month of May, And my love shall go In her holiday array: But I shall lie in the kirkyard nigh While all the little brown birds sing upon the spray. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE LITTLE BOY LOST, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE TO MY FATHER by WILLIAM SYDNEY GRAHAM EPITAPH ON THE TOMB OF SIR EDWARD GILES AND HIS WIFE by ROBERT HERRICK THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 74. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER (OLD & NEW ART) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI BURNING STRAWPILES by EVA K. ANGLESBURG SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 2. THE FLOWER ASLEEP by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) A CHRISTMAS CAMP ON THE SAN GABR'EL by AMELIA EDITH HUDDLESTON BARR |