 | 'Weh Down Souf and other Poems : |  |
46
THE OWL SONG.
Bird of the night! to thee,
Perched on the forest tree,
Our song we raise;
Thy deeds we celebrate,
And thy great works narrate,
Thy fame we advocate,
In notes of praise.
Perched on the forest tree,
Our song we raise;
Thy deeds we celebrate,
And thy great works narrate,
Thy fame we advocate,
In notes of praise.
The turkey may be sweet,
And many birds you meet
Are splendid “fowl”—
Not e'en the eagle bold,
Nor birds with plumage gold,
Nor song-birds young or old,
Can touch thee, Owl!
And many birds you meet
Are splendid “fowl”—
Not e'en the eagle bold,
Nor birds with plumage gold,
Nor song-birds young or old,
Can touch thee, Owl!
47
And whence comes thy great name,
Bird of the noble fame!
Of being wise?
'Tis for thy silent tongue
That oft thy praise is sung,
And oft thy name is rung
Up to the skies.
Bird of the noble fame!
Of being wise?
'Tis for thy silent tongue
That oft thy praise is sung,
And oft thy name is rung
Up to the skies.
| 'Weh Down Souf and other Poems : | |