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Rh

An Owl one night profanely flew

Into a church and chanced to see

A lamp or lantern—but the two

Are much alike, and one will do.

Whichever it might be.

And yet, methinks, anent the pair.

It was, if I remember well,

A lamp: but whether round or square.

Or made of glass or earthenware.

Is more than I can tell.

But there it hung, in pious proof

Of Catholicity, before

The Virgin's shrine—a thing aloof.

Just ninety feet below the roof

And nine above the floor.

The Owl, who felt at such a sight

His appetite for oil arise.

Swooped boldly towards it, but the light.

Alack! was too intensely bright.

And scorched his lidless eyes.

So, reeling backwards in despair,

He muttered, as he left the shrine,

"Oh, but for this terrific glare.

How gloriously would I fare

Upon that oil of thine!