Author John Drinkwater It was not dawn; in the full day I drowsed my wits in sleep,And let the rich world steal away, Without a song to keep.Then from a dripping timber-stack, Where the wild thistle grew,Spreading his scarlet plumes and black, Again the loud cock crew. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments