THE OOLOGIST 



119 



Much was I pleased 



When this fine bird, 

 That Death had seized, 



Lay 'cross my board, 

 And soon I had him half in flight, 

 A mounted beauty — finest sight! 

 He could not fly 



Nor sound a note; 



And as I dreamed, my owl of snow, 

 In silence from his perch let go, 

 Soared far away, 



Was lost to view 

 For possibly 



An hour or two. 

 Then back he came to new made perch, 

 Lit s'lently without a' lurch. 



.^^ 



Hear from Northland the rise and fall; Aurora, grand, sends clarion call. 



Yet proud was I 



To own his coat, 

 Snow-white and downy, passing fair 

 It dazzled me and kept me there. 



My steady glance 



Caused me to fall 

 Into a trance. 



Forgetting all; 



The moonbeams glide 



Across the floor; 

 From ev'ry side 



And through the door. 

 Faint music strains of pigmy might 

 Ebb and flow with a passing night. 

 Aurora, grand. 



Sends clarion call; — 



