…from the quills of the dead white poets
William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
When daffodils begin to peer, -- With hey! The doxy over the dale, -- Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter’s pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, -- With hey! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! -- Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, -- With hey! with hey! the thrush and the jay, -- Are summer songs for me and for my aunts, While we lie tumbling in the hay.