Page:Poems of nature, Thoreau, 1895.djvu/118

 TO A STRAY FOWL

bird! destined to lead thy life

Far in the adventurous west,

And here to be debarred to-night

From thy accustomed nest;

Must thou fall back upon old instinct now—

Well-nigh extinct under man's fickle care?

Did heaven bestow its quenchless inner light

So long ago, for thy small want to-night?

Why stand'st upon thy toes to crow so late?

The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate;

Or dost thou think so to possess the night,

And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite?

And now with anxious eye thou look'st about, 94