"Is it not?" said Primula.
"He never stirred late at night
But in the morning early bright
The cattle woke, when they heard his crow:
Cockadoodledoo!
"He spared no pains for his lady love,
For her he scratched below, above,
She heard with ecstasy his crow:
Cockadoodledoo!
"Of genius boasts my hero not,
And poetry did not fall to his lot,
Yet do I love indeed his crow: