Wake up at six, but dawn is gone, changing lights no more, and twittering birds done. The bright summer sun, clothed in morning gown, mocks me, "too late, no twilight for you; and 'gone', 'done', 'gown' don't rhyme; you have no ear for vowels."
Wake up at six, but dawn is gone, changing lights no more, and twittering birds done. The bright summer sun, clothed in morning gown, mocks me, "too late, no twilight for you; and 'gone', 'done', 'gown' don't rhyme; you have no ear for vowels."