Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/119



Chased by a hawk, there came a dove
 * With worn and weary wing,

And took her stand upon the hand
 * Of Kasi's noble king.

The monarch smoothed her ruffled plumes.
 * And laid her on his breast;

And cried, "No fear shall vex thee here,
 * Rest, pretty egg-born, rest!

Fair Kasi's realm is rich and wide,
 * With golden harvests gay,

But all that's mine will I resign
 * Ere I my guest betray."

But, panting for his half-won spoil,
 * The hawk was close behind.

And with wild eye and eager cry
 * Came swooping down the wind:

"This bird," he cried, "my destined prize,
 * 'Tis not for thee to shield:

'Tis mine by right and toilsome flight
 * O'er hill and dale and field.

Hunger and thirst oppress me sore.
 * And I am faint with toil:

Thou should'st not stay a bird of prey.
 * Who claims his rightful spoil.