ROOSTERS
The crown of red
set on your little head
is charged with all your fighting blood.
Elizabeth Bishop 1911–1979
From "The Blue Hen's chickens and
other poems"
by
Thomas Irons 1915
THE MORNING COMETH
THE light rims on the eastern way.
The cheerful harbinger of day;
The cocks are early crowing.
The stars are fading, one by one,
The dark and lonesome night is done;
The early daylight's showing.
Awake! awake! 'tis early morn,
Another happy day is bom,
The feathered warblers wooing.
The day is coming — darkness gone.
We have another glorious dawn;
Our love of life renewing.
All nature gladdens with the morn,
A deeper gladness in us born;
The world with light's o'erflowing.
The lambs, in gladness, skip and play,
The birds sing out a roundelay,
The flowers faster growing.
The horse neighs out his glad surprise.
The watch dog hears the distant cries
From fields with light aglowing.
The happy, winged creatures pass, . . .
