14
The Owl.
[July,
When the boy said, “Blind they’ll learn to sing;”
And he heard the shriek, when, the hot steel pin
Through their eye-balls was thrust in!
He felt it all! Their agony
Was echoed by his frantic cry,
His scream rose up with a mighty swell,
And wild on the boy’s fierce heart it fell;
It quailed him, as he shuddering said,
“Lo! The litle birds are dead.”
—But the Father Owl!
He tore his breast in his despair,
And flew he knew not, recked not, where!
And he heard the shriek, when, the hot steel pin
Through their eye-balls was thrust in!
He felt it all! Their agony
Was echoed by his frantic cry,
His scream rose up with a mighty swell,
And wild on the boy’s fierce heart it fell;
It quailed him, as he shuddering said,
“Lo! The litle birds are dead.”
—But the Father Owl!
He tore his breast in his despair,
And flew he knew not, recked not, where!
But whither then went the Father Owl,
With his wild stare and deathly scowl?
—He had got a strange wild stare,
For he thought he saw them ever there,
And he scream’d as they scream’d when he saw them fall
Dead on the floor of the marble hall.
With his wild stare and deathly scowl?
—He had got a strange wild stare,
For he thought he saw them ever there,
And he scream’d as they scream’d when he saw them fall
Dead on the floor of the marble hall.
Many seasons travelled he,
With his load of misery,
Striving to forget the pain
Which was clinging to his brain,
Many seasons, many years,
Number’d by his burning tears.
Many nights his boding cry
Scared the traveller passing by;
But all in vain his wanderings were,
He could not from his memory tear
The things that had been, still were there.
With his load of misery,
Striving to forget the pain
Which was clinging to his brain,
Many seasons, many years,
Number’d by his burning tears.
Many nights his boding cry
Scared the traveller passing by;
But all in vain his wanderings were,
He could not from his memory tear
The things that had been, still were there.
One night, very very weary,
He sat in a hollow tree,
With his thoughts—ah! all so dreary
For his only company—
—He heard something like a sound
Of horse-hoofs through the forest bound,
And full soon he was aware,
A Stranger, and a Lady fair,
Hid them, motionless and mute,
From a husband’s swift pursuit.
He sat in a hollow tree,
With his thoughts—ah! all so dreary
For his only company—
—He heard something like a sound
Of horse-hoofs through the forest bound,
And full soon he was aware,
A Stranger, and a Lady fair,
Hid them, motionless and mute,
From a husband’s swift pursuit.
The cheated husband passed them by,
The Owl shrieked out, he scarce knew why;
The spoiler look’d, and, by the light,
Saw two wild eyes that, ghastly bright,
Threw an unnatural glare around
The spot where he had shelter found.—
Starting, he woke from rapture’s dream,
For again he heard that boding scream,
And “On—for danger and death are nigh,
When drinks mine ear yon dismal cry”—
He said—and fled through the forest fast;
The owl has punish’d his foe at last—
For he knew, in the injured husband’s foe,
Him who had laid his own hopes low.
The Owl shrieked out, he scarce knew why;
The spoiler look’d, and, by the light,
Saw two wild eyes that, ghastly bright,
Threw an unnatural glare around
The spot where he had shelter found.—
Starting, he woke from rapture’s dream,
For again he heard that boding scream,
And “On—for danger and death are nigh,
When drinks mine ear yon dismal cry”—
He said—and fled through the forest fast;
The owl has punish’d his foe at last—
For he knew, in the injured husband’s foe,
Him who had laid his own hopes low.
Sick grew the heart of the bird of night,
And again and again he took to flight;
But ever on his wandering wing
He bore that load of suffering!—
Nought could cheer him!—the pale moon,
In whose soft beam he took delight,
And again and again he took to flight;
But ever on his wandering wing
He bore that load of suffering!—
Nought could cheer him!—the pale moon,
In whose soft beam he took delight,
