Classic Poem

The shutters were closed,
But I heard the birds singing.
There was our own thrush
Shouting
With an impatient shout;
So it sounded to me.
The morning was still,
The twittering of the little birds
Was very gloomy.
The owls had hooted
A quarter of an hour before.
Now
The cocks were crowing,
It was near daylight,
I put out my candle,
And went to bed.