Joanna Baillie

(1762-1851 / Scotland)

The Outlaw's Song

THE chough and crow to roost are gone,
   The owl sits on the tree,
The hush'd wind wails with feeble moan,
   Like infant charity.
The wild-fire dances on the fen,
   The red star sheds its ray;
Uprouse ye then, my merry men!
   It is our op'ning day.

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