CHANTICLEER
Of all the birds from East to West
That tuneful are and dear,
I love that farmyard bird the best,
They call him Chanticleer.
That tuneful are and dear,
I love that farmyard bird the best,
They call him Chanticleer.
Gold plume and copper plume,
Comb of scarlet gay;
'Tis he that scatters night and gloom,
And whistles back the day!
Comb of scarlet gay;
'Tis he that scatters night and gloom,
And whistles back the day!
He is the sun's brave herald
Who, ringing his blithe horn,
Calls round a world dew-pearled
The heavenly airs of morn.
Who, ringing his blithe horn,
Calls round a world dew-pearled
The heavenly airs of morn.
O clear gold, shrill and bold,
He calls through creeping mist
The mountains from the night and cold
To rose and amethyst.
He calls through creeping mist
The mountains from the night and cold
To rose and amethyst.
He sets the birds to singing,
And calls the flowers to rise;
The morning cometh, bringing
Sweet sleep to heavy eyes.
And calls the flowers to rise;
The morning cometh, bringing
Sweet sleep to heavy eyes.
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