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

196 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