The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife...
British Poems, from "Canterbury Tales" to "Recessional" - Page 248
1912 - 537 pages
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