32 THE VIRGINIAN OWL. 



He kindles his fire, and the evening breeze 

 Sends the flickering light 'mid the forest-trees, 

 Cheered by the genial warmth it has shed, 

 He lies down to rest on his leafy bed ; 

 And sweetly he sleeps, till a sudden scream 

 Breaks on his slumber, and chases his dream. 

 Pie wakes, and the note of the night-flying bird, 

 Waugh O ! Waugh O ! round his watch-fire is heard, 

 And he knows that the forest-warder is he, 



Keeping his guard round the traveller's tree. 



'Watchman, what of the night ?" he cries, 

 And closes again his wearied eyes. 



Children of luxury, come hither and see, 

 How the pilgrim can rest by the forest-tree ; 

 Though the night-falling dews descend on his brows, 

 Yet sweetly he sleeps beneath the green boughs. 

 Calmly he rests, till the night-bird again, 

 Rouses him up with his far sounding strain. 

 Notes of deep omen, that well might affright, 

 The wanderer that rests by that lonely light. 

 He wakes, and the voice of the night-flying bird, 

 Waugh O ! Waugh O ! round his watch-fire, is heard. 

 But he knows that the forest-warder is he, 

 Keeping his guard round the traveller's tree. 

 " Watchman, what of the night ?" he cries, 

 And closes again his wearied eyes. 



