Mourn not for the owl, nor his gloomy plight! 



The owl hath his share of good : 

 If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, 



He is lord in the dark greenwood! 

 Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate. 



They are each unto each a pride; 

 Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate 



Hath rent them from all beside. 



Bkyan W. Proctoe (Barry Cornwall). 



