the owl - henry f. gilbert lyrics
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when cats run home and light is come
and dew is cold upon the ground
and the far*off stream is dumb
and the whirring sail goes round;
alone and warming his five wits
the white owl in the belfry sits
when merry milkmaids cl!ck the latch
and rarely smells the new*mown hay
and the c*ck hath sung beneath the thatch
twice or thrice his round*e*lay;
alone and warming his five wits
the white owl in the belfry sits
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