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Cold are the wind and the rain, | |
And shrilly crows the cock. | |
But I have seen my husband, | |
And should I but feel at rest? | |
The wind whistles and the rain patters, | |
While loudly crows the cock. | |
But I have seen my husband, | |
And could my ailment but be cured? | |
Through the wind and rain all looks dark, | |
And the cock crows without ceasing. | |
But I have seen my husband, | |
And how should I not rejoice? |
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Published by The Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, © Copyright 2003 by Anne Kinney and the University of Virginia | |