Fugitive Verses

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THE BLACK COCK,

WRITTEN FOR A WELCH AIR, CALLED "THE NOTE OF THE BLACK COCK."

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	GOOD morrow to thy sable beak,
	And glossy plumage, dark and sleek,
	Thy crimson moon and azure eye,
	Cock of the heath, so wildly shy!
	I see thee, slily cowering, through
	That wiry web of silver dew,
	That twinkles in the morning air,
	Like easement of my lady fair.

	A maid there is in yonder tower,
	Who, peeping from her early bower,
	Half shews, like thee, with simple wile,
	Her braided hair and morning smile.
― 363 ―
	The rarest things with wayward will,
	Beneath the covert hide them still:
	The rarest things to light of day
	Look shortly forth, and shrink away.

	One fleeting moment of delight,
	I sunned me in her cheering sight;
	And short, I ween, the term will be,
	That I shall parley hold with thee.
	Through Snowdon's mist red beams the day;
	The climbing herdboy chaunts his lay;
	The gnat-flies dance their sunny ring;
	Thou art already on the wing.

About this text
Courtesy of University of California, Davis. General Library. Digital Intitiatives Program.; http://digital.lib.ucdavis.edu/projects/bwrp
http://content.cdlib.org/view?docId=kt567nb8xt&brand=oac4
Title: Fugitive Verses
By:  Baillie, Joanna, 1762-1851, creator, British Women Romantic Poets Project
Date: 2001 (issued)
Contributing Institution: University of California, Davis. General Library. Digital Intitiatives Program.; http://digital.lib.ucdavis.edu/projects/bwrp
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