On Being Awoken Early
My friends, it is a dismal thing
At such an hour to pound and ring!
Let others shiver if they must,
I shall not greet a sky of rust!
Let first the air be half so warm
As in this covered nest I form.
And then, perhaps, if need of it,
I’ll lift an eye, and half-way sit.
Copyright © Jerrold Prothero | Year Posted 2025
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