three o'clock
I tried five rooms and found them empty . In the sixth Nat lay stretched upon a tattered silk coverlet . He sprang up at my touch and felt for his sword . `` Past three o'clock and fine clear mornin ' ! '' sang I , mimicking the Oxford watch , and with my foot the tap of his staff as he had used to pass along Holy well . `` Hey ! now the day dawis , The jolly cock crawis -- '' `` The wind will head us in the upper reach : but beyond it blows fair for Corsica ! ''