<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341850" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Matin-song of Friar Tuck</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>If souls could sing to heaven's high King<br>As blackbirds pipe on earth,<br>How those delicious courts would ring<br>With gusts of lovely mirth!<br>What white-robed throng could lift a song<br>So mellow with righteous glee<br>As this brown bird that all day long<br>Delights my hawthorn tree.<br>Hark! That's the thrush<br>With speckled breast<br>From yon white bush<br>Chaunting his best,<br> Te Deum! Te Deum laudamus! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>If earthly dreams be touched with gleams<br>Of Paradisal air,<br>Some wings, perchance, of earth may glance<br>Around our slumbers there;<br>Some breaths of may might drift our way<br>With scents of leaf and loam,<br>Some whistling bird at dawn be heard<br>From those old woods of home.<br>Hark! That's the thrush<br>With speckled breast<br>From yon white bush<br>Chaunting his best,<br> Te Deum! Te Deum laudamus! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>No King or priest shall mar my feast<br>Where'er my soul may range.<br>I have no fear of heaven's good cheer<br>Unless our Master change.<br>But when death's night is dying away,<br>If I might choose my bliss,<br>My love should say, at break of day,<br>With her first waking kiss:--<br>Hark! That's the thrush<br>With speckled breast,<br>From yon white bush <br>Chaunting his best,<br> Te Deum! Te Deum laudamus!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Noyes">Alfred Noyes</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341850" data-title="The Matin-song of Friar Tuck de Alfred Noyes" data-description="I. If souls could sing to heaven's high King As blackbirds pipe on earth, How those delicious courts would ring With gusts of lovely mirth! What white-robed throng could lift a song So mellow with righteous glee As this brown bird that all day lon..."></div> </div> </div>

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