The green grass grows;
Round about my feet
The wild worm goes.
17
“Now in the darksome entry
The black cock doth crow,
And all the gates are opening;
Forth must I go.
18
“Now crows upon the high-loft
The green grass grows;
Round about my feet
The wild worm goes.
17
“Now in the darksome entry
The black cock doth crow,
And all the gates are opening;
Forth must I go.
18
“Now crows upon the high-loft