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...ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN by SARA TEASDALE A BIRD'S ANGER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE VALLEY'S SINGING DAY by ROBERT FROST MISGIVINGS (1860) by HERMAN MELVILLE FESTE'S SONG (1), FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE VENUS AND ADONIS by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FRAGMENT OF AN 'ANTIGONE' by MATTHEW ARNOLD IMPROVEMENT IN THE FORTIES by THOMAS BARNARD COLORED HEROES, HARK THE BUGLE; POLITICAL by ROBERT CHARLES O'HARA BENJAMIN |