Second Song

by


THY tuwhits are lull’d I wot,
Thy tuwhoos of yesternight,
Which upon the dark afloat,
So took echo with delight,
So took echo with delight,
That her voice untuneful grown,
Wears all day a fainter tone.


II.
I would mock thy chaunt anew;
But I cannot mimick it;
Not a whit of thy tuwhoo,
Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,
Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,
With a lengthen’d loud halloo,
Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo-o-o.

0

facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest


Add Second Song to your library.

Return to the Alfred Lord Tennyson library , or . . . Read the next poem; She Is Coming, My Own, My Sweet

© 2022 AmericanLiterature.com