Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/197

Amid some dodder'd oak, and then at night,
With hideous hooting and wild flapping wings,
Scaring the innocent child. What hath he done
To earn a penny, or to make the world
Richer in any way? I doubt if he
Even gets an honest living. Who can say
Whether such midnight rambles, none know where,
Are for his credit? Yet the priceless crown
Of wisdom he in symbol and in song
Unrighteously hath worn.
                                          But times have changed,
Most reverend owl! Utility bears rule,
And the shrewd spirit of a busy age
Dotes not on things antique, nor pays respect
To hoary hairs, but counts it loss of time
To honour whatsoever fails to yield
A fat per centage. Yet thou'rt not ashamed
To live a gentleman, nor bronze thy claw
With manual labour, stupidly content
To be a burden on community.

—Meantime, the worthy and hard-working goose
Hath rear'd us goslings, fed us with her flesh,
Lull'd us to sleep upon her softest down,
And with her quills maintain'd the lover's lore,
And saved the tinsel of the poet's brain.
—Dear goose, thou'rt greatly wrong'd.
                                                               I move the owl
Be straightway taken from the usurper's seat,
And thou forthwith be voted for, to fill
Minerva's arms.
                             The flourish of a pen