Though rising early with the Lark How can she sing, whose mind is dark? She burns her lamp by night and day, To keep the evil spirits away; With windows opened wide at night, She puts the lurking devils to flight. How many nights have heard her wrath, That cursed all things in Heaven and Earth! Till, tired of all her terrible speech, Only the Owl was left to screech. When children wake and, trembling, cry Who blames the poor old Owl? Not I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POLAR QUEST by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON BACCHUS by RALPH WALDO EMERSON OEDIPUS AT COLONUS: OLD AGE by SOPHOCLES DANSE RUSSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS EPIGAEA ASLEEP by WILLIAM WHITMAN BAILEY THE PRIDE OF WESTMORELAND by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: COMPENSATION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |