A boy came by that hollow tree,
With a fierce and wild halloo;
And this the birds, all startled heard,
And answered, _to whit, to woo_.
As the old bird shrieked, the young ones squeaked;
“Oh ho!” said the boy,
In a frantic joy,
“An owl is the bird for me,
And here are its young ones three.”
Then with eager look,
He that bird’s-nest took;
While plaintive and slow,
Rose a note of wo
From the owl in its hollow tree,
_To whit, to whit, to woo._
IV.
That boy now took his victims home,
And put them in a cage;
And cooped up there,
In their despair,
They bit and scratched in rage;
They caught his fingers once or twice,
And made him scream with pain;
And then he vowed,
In curses loud,
That they should all be slain.
He tied them to a stake, and got
An iron pin, and made it hot,
To burn out their young eyes.
“Ha, ha!” said he, “you’ll not bite me,
You’ll not bite me again:”
Then in the sky
A wing flapped by
That seemed to stop his breath;
’Twas the old owl, with a heavy scowl,
Lamenting her young ones’ death――
_To whit, to whit, to woo._
V.
That boy grew up――became a man,
A _cruel_ man was he,
His heart had grown as hard as stone,
Which none but God could see.
One dreary night,
In the wan moonlight,
Beneath that hollow tree
He vengeful stood, to spill the blood
Of a hated enemy.
With a furious blow, he laid him low,
Then plunged his knife
To take his life,
Deep to its haft,
And wildly laughed,――
“You will not again plague me.”
But yet as he knelt
O’er that foe, he felt
A shudder that quailed all his blood’s full glow;
For oh, he heard,
On the tree that bird,
The same old owl, o’er that murder foul,
Cry, _whit, to whit, to woo._
VI.
He fled――the owl’s reproaching cry
Still ringing in his ears;
But ah, ’twas in vain for the wretch to fly,
So loaded with guilt and fears.
He quick was caught,
And to justice brought,
And soon in prison lies.
And oh, while there,
In his deep despair,
In lonely tears and sighs,
He thought of the iron cage!
And he thought of the cruel rage!!
And the red-hot pin, that he once thrust in,
To burn out the young bird’s eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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