It is the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman
Which gives the stern'st good-night.

It is the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman
Which gives the stern'st good-night.

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
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Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
Some to kill canters in the musk-rose buds,
Some war with reremice for their leathren wings,
To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits.

St Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold.

St Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold.

In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral Owl doth dwell;
Dull, hated, despised, read more

In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral Owl doth dwell;
Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour,
But at the dusk--he's abroad and well!
Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him--
All mock him outright, by day:
But at night, when the woods grow still and dim,
The boldest will shrink away!
O, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl,
Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl!

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

When cats run home and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the read more

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.

The large white owl that with eye is blind,
That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow,
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The large white owl that with eye is blind,
That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow,
Is carried away in a gust of wind.

The wailing owl
Screams solitary to the mournful moon.

The wailing owl
Screams solitary to the mournful moon.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding read more

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-who;
Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.