EARLY in the morning, when the dawn is on the roofs, <br />You hear his wheels come rolling, you hear his horses hoofs; <br />You hear the bottles clinking, and then he drives away: <br />You yawn in bed, turn over, and begin another day! <br /> <br />The old-time dairy maids are dear to every poet's heart- <br />I'd rather be the dairy man and drive a little cart, <br />And bustle round the village in the early morning blue, <br />And hang my reigns upon a hook, as I've seen Casey do.<br /><br />Christopher Morley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-milkman/
