 | Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan |  |
94
OF ST. FRANCIS: HIS WRATH.
Our father, 'spite his tenderness
For all the dear God made,
Certes, at times was not afraid
To ban as well as bless.
For all the dear God made,
Certes, at times was not afraid
To ban as well as bless.
There was a young bird, ravening;
A little lark this was;
From a low nest in sunny grass
His parents rose to sing.
A little lark this was;
From a low nest in sunny grass
His parents rose to sing.
And in the nest as well as he
Four young birds soft and sweet,
Through dew, and dusk, and noontide heat
In love did well agree.
Four young birds soft and sweet,
Through dew, and dusk, and noontide heat
In love did well agree.
Thither our father often came,
Rejoicing to behold
God's little birds, with throats of gold,
Trembling to praise His Name.
Rejoicing to behold
God's little birds, with throats of gold,
Trembling to praise His Name.
95
And here he often stayed and prayed
Deriving much pleasure,
From the dear anthem wild and pure
The larks sang overhead.
Deriving much pleasure,
From the dear anthem wild and pure
The larks sang overhead.
And oftentimes he raised his hand,
Blessing those little birds;
Who piped in answer to his words,
As they could understand.
Blessing those little birds;
Who piped in answer to his words,
As they could understand.
But this young lark of whom I tell,
Content not with his share
Of worms, and flies, and such like fare,
Cruel, insatiable,
Content not with his share
Of worms, and flies, and such like fare,
Cruel, insatiable,
Upon his little brethren set,
And with his beak them slew.
It chanced our father came thereto
While yet the blood was wet;
And with his beak them slew.
It chanced our father came thereto
While yet the blood was wet;
And saw the parents flying round,
Their song all turned to moan;
The murderer, careless, from a stone
Did view that slaughter-ground.
Their song all turned to moan;
The murderer, careless, from a stone
Did view that slaughter-ground.
Our father's wrath and pity grew
And kindled to a flame;
“Ah, thou vile bird of woe and shame,
Ill fate will thee pursue!
And kindled to a flame;
“Ah, thou vile bird of woe and shame,
Ill fate will thee pursue!
96
“Miserably shalt thou die,” he said,
“Be drowned, for all thy wings;
And loathed by all living things,
Even when thou art dead.
“Be drowned, for all thy wings;
And loathed by all living things,
Even when thou art dead.
“The painted insect in the grass,
The frog that croaks anigh,
The firefly and the butterfly
Will hate thee as they pass.
The frog that croaks anigh,
The firefly and the butterfly
Will hate thee as they pass.
“Even the cats and dogs,” he said,
“And carrion birds of air,
On thy vile carcase will not fare:
A curse is on thy head.”
“And carrion birds of air,
On thy vile carcase will not fare:
A curse is on thy head.”
And even so it came to pass.
Before three days were done,
That lark was drowned in a tank of stone,
The peacock's looking-glass.
Before three days were done,
That lark was drowned in a tank of stone,
The peacock's looking-glass.
And there he lay in Heaven's eye,
Dead, and dishonoured too,
Till someone passing by him threw
Upon a dunghill nigh.
Dead, and dishonoured too,
Till someone passing by him threw
Upon a dunghill nigh.
Of all foul things in beast or bird,
Or in men's hearts that be,
This, the foul fiend of cruelty
Our father most abhorred.
Or in men's hearts that be,
This, the foul fiend of cruelty
Our father most abhorred.
| Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan | |