THE LONG-EARED OWL 
My mother is exceeding wise ; 
If you could watch her blink her eyes 
The sight would fill you with surprise. 
My father has much wisdom too : 
All the bright days his words are few. 
But at the dusk he cries, “ Whoo — Whoo ! ” 
Oh, you should see his large grave face— 
Quite like a judge’s (of the race 
Called human) listening to a case. 
At least they tell me so ; though I, 
Of course, can not say clearly why 
As yet, scarce knowing how to fly. 
When I have long soft wings they say. 
And am a full-grown bird of prey. 
Then I, too, shall be wise as they ; 
And flit to barns and towers at night. 
And keep small birds and mice in sight. 
And catch them by the moon’s cold light. 
Whoo ! Whoo ! 
What is that strange cry that echoes as the night 
begins to fall? It must be Mrs. Owl, seeking food 
for her young. Perhaps if you watch closely you 
may see her swooping along the sides of a hedgerow, 
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