Fell sick and died
Somebody embroidered the doily.
Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green pine!
But who for joys brides hope to have
Moored on the rifted rock,
And miles to go before I sleep,
My lullaby the warder's tread,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Speaking indifferently to him,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
Fell sick and died
Somebody embroidered the doily.
Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green pine!
But who for joys brides hope to have
Moored on the rifted rock,
And miles to go before I sleep,
My lullaby the warder's tread,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Speaking indifferently to him,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,