Suppose we just go into town,
To hear and see what's going on;
Folks all admire your snow-white coat,
Bright eyes, and long and slender throat.
GOOSE.
I thank you kindly, Mister Fox,
But more I thank the bolts and locks,
That make you stand outside the door,
To try elsewhere your lying lore.
Before you came the day was fair;
But since you spoke I do declare,
The sight of you, good sir, to day,
Has sent the whole sunshine away.
17. The Church-Bells.
THE MATIN BELL.
Pealing from the grey Church-tower,
Hark, hark! the Matin Bell
Slowly chimes the midnight hour:
Hark, hark! the Matin Bell.
Now the time of rest is o'er,
Now the friars in the choir
Soon must sing the Matin Hour:
Bim, bome, the Matin Bell.
THE SANCTUS BELL.
Ringing from the Church-tower grey,
Hark, hark! the Sanctus Bell
Ushers in morn's early ray:
