The Owl Lyrics

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

And the whirring sail goes round

Alone and warming his five wits

The white owl in the belfry sits

When merry milkmaids click the latch

And rarely smells the new-mown hay

And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch

Twice or thrice his roundelay

Twice or thrice his roundelay

Alone and warming his five wits

The white owl in the belfry sits.