OF all the brave birds that ere I did see, The owl is the fairest in her degree; For all the day long she sits in a tree, And when the night cometh, away flies she, To-whit-to-whoo! To whom drinkest thou? Sir Knave, to you. This song is well sung, I'll make you a vow, And he is a knave that drinketh now. Nose, nose, nose; and who gave thee that jolly red nose? Nutmegs and cloves; and who gave thee that jolly red nose? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS BUNKER HILL by GEORGE HENRY CALVERT AUTUMN MORNING AT CAMBRIDGE by FRANCES CROFTS DARWIN CORNFORD AGAMEMNON: CHORUS by AESCHYLUS TO ONE WHO ASKED by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 9: GREAT WESTERN DAYS by T. BAKER VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON |