 | Birds and flowers and other country things |  |
125
[THE CARRION CROW]
On a splintered bough sits the Carrion-crow,
And first he croaks loud and then he croaks low;
Twenties of years ago, that bough
Was leafless and barkless as it is now.
And first he croaks loud and then he croaks low;
Twenties of years ago, that bough
Was leafless and barkless as it is now.
It is on the top of an ancient oak
That the Carrion-crow has perched to croak;
In the gloom of a forest the old oak grows,—
When it was young there's nobody knows.
That the Carrion-crow has perched to croak;
In the gloom of a forest the old oak grows,—
When it was young there's nobody knows.
126
'Tis but half alive, and up in the air
You may see its branches splintered and bare;
You may see them plain in the cloudy night,
They are so skeleton-like and white.
You may see its branches splintered and bare;
You may see them plain in the cloudy night,
They are so skeleton-like and white.
The old oak trunk is gnarled and grey,
But the wood has rotted all away,
Nothing remains but a cave-like shell,
Where bats, and spiders, and millepedes dwell;
But the wood has rotted all away,
Nothing remains but a cave-like shell,
Where bats, and spiders, and millepedes dwell;
And the tawny owl and the noisy daw,
In many a hollow and many a flaw;
By night or by day, were you there about,
You might see them creep in, or see them creep out.
In many a hollow and many a flaw;
By night or by day, were you there about,
You might see them creep in, or see them creep out.
And there, on the top of that ancient oak,
The Carrion-crow he sits to croak;—
The words of his croaking I fain would know;
What does he say—that Carrion-crow?
The Carrion-crow he sits to croak;—
The words of his croaking I fain would know;
What does he say—that Carrion-crow?
He says, and he's merry as he can be,—
“To-night there's a famous feast for me;
For me and my mate so beautiful,
Where the hound lies dead by the forest-pool.
“To-night there's a famous feast for me;
For me and my mate so beautiful,
Where the hound lies dead by the forest-pool.
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“His master he knows not where he lies,
So we shall go down to peck out his eyes;
His master he mourneth, early and late;—
But 'tis joy to me and my beautiful mate!
So we shall go down to peck out his eyes;
His master he mourneth, early and late;—
But 'tis joy to me and my beautiful mate!
“And the miller last week he killed his mare,—
She lies in a hollow, I know where,—
There's an ancient cross of crumbling stone
Down in that hollow, dank and lone!
She lies in a hollow, I know where,—
There's an ancient cross of crumbling stone
Down in that hollow, dank and lone!
“The mare was blind, and lame, and thin,
And she had not a bone but it pierced her skin;
For twenty years did she come and go,—
We'll be with her anon!” croaked the Carrioncrow.
And she had not a bone but it pierced her skin;
For twenty years did she come and go,—
We'll be with her anon!” croaked the Carrioncrow.
“And there bleats a lamb by the thundering linn,
The mother ewe she has tumbled in;
Three days ago and the lamb was strong,
Now he is weak with fasting long.
The mother ewe she has tumbled in;
Three days ago and the lamb was strong,
Now he is weak with fasting long.
“All day long he moans and calls,
And over his mother the water falls;
He can see his mother down below,
But why she comes not he does not know.
And over his mother the water falls;
He can see his mother down below,
But why she comes not he does not know.
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“His little heart doth pine away,
And fainter and fainter he bleats to-day;
So loud o'er the linn the waters brawl,
That the shepherd he hears him not at all!
And fainter and fainter he bleats to-day;
So loud o'er the linn the waters brawl,
That the shepherd he hears him not at all!
“Twice I've been down to look at him,
But he glanced on me his eyeballs dim;
And among the stones so cold and bare,
I saw the raven watching there.
But he glanced on me his eyeballs dim;
And among the stones so cold and bare,
I saw the raven watching there.
“He'll have the first peck at his black eye,
And taste of his heart before it die:—
Aha! though the hungry raven is there,
As soon as he's ready we'll have our share!”
And taste of his heart before it die:—
Aha! though the hungry raven is there,
As soon as he's ready we'll have our share!”
These are the words of the Carrion-crow,
As he first croaks loud and then croaks low,
And the spiders and millepedes hear him croak,
As he sits up aloft on the ancient oak.
As he first croaks loud and then croaks low,
And the spiders and millepedes hear him croak,
As he sits up aloft on the ancient oak.
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