CHANTICLEER
Gold plume and silver plume,
Comb of coral gay;
'Tis he packs off the night and gloom,
And summons home the day!
Comb of coral gay;
'Tis he packs off the night and gloom,
And summons home the day!
Black fear he sends it flying,
Black care he drives afar;
And creeping shadows sighing
Before the morning star.
Black care he drives afar;
And creeping shadows sighing
Before the morning star.
(Tis O, and woe, the lone ghost
That glides before his call,
And huddles in its grave, so lost,
Below the churchyard wall!)
That glides before his call,
And huddles in its grave, so lost,
Below the churchyard wall!)
The birds of all the forest
Have dear and pleasant cheer.
But yet I hold the rarest
The farmyard Chanticleer.
Have dear and pleasant cheer.
But yet I hold the rarest
The farmyard Chanticleer.
Red cock or black cock,
Gold cock or white,
The flower of all the feathered flock,
He whistles back the light!
Gold cock or white,
The flower of all the feathered flock,
He whistles back the light!
244
