I WHEN cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits. II When merry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells the new-mown hay, And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch Twice or thrice his roundelay, Twice or thrice his roundelay; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MERCILES BEAUTE; A TRIPLE ROUNDEL: 3. ESCAPE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER AN INVITE TO ETERNITY by JOHN CLARE RIDDLE: A BLACKSMITH by MOTHER GOOSE THE DISMANTLED SHIP by WALT WHITMAN MEETING AGAIN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |