Tote AnUeD «UB ONT BAU L EeToDN 
Nature wisely made a law, 
And I fail to find a flaw 
In thy title to the earth, 
And all it holds of any worth. 
I like thy self-complacent air, 
I like thy ways so free from care, 
Thy landlord stroll about my fields, 
Quickly noting what each yields; 
Thy courtly mien and bearing bold, 
As if thy claim were bought with gold; 
Thy floating shape against the sky, 
When days are calm and clouds are high; 
Thy thrifty flight ere rise the sun, 
Thy homing clans when day is done. 
Hues protective are not thine, 
So sleek thy coat each quill doth shine. 
Diamond black to end of toe, 
Thy counter-point the crystal snow. 
Friendly bandit, Robin Hood, 
Judge and jury of the wood. 
Or Captain Kidd of sable quill, 
Hiding treasures in the hill. 
Nature made thee for each season, 
Gave thee wit for ample reason, 
Good crow wit that’s always burnished 
Like the coat her care has furnished. 
May thy numbers ne’er diminish, 
Pll befriend thee till life’s finish. 
May I never cease to meet thee, 
May I never have to eat thee. 
And mayst thou never have to fare so 
That thou playest the part of scarecrow! 
—JOHN BURROUGHS 
