Page:Poetry of the Magyars.djvu/145

Bid the Owl go forth and arrest and watch over the traitor.
Great was his eye, and bright—so fitting was he for a keeper.
Wisdom's not always wise, nor prudence over prudential.
Yet shall the Wren be king—imprisonment gives him the sceptre.
Sleep o'ertook the Owl—the little Wren fluttered his pinions,
Flew on the breezy wind, and escaped from the scene of danger.
Justice summons her court-—dispatches her minions to bring him:
Lo! the Owl asleep—and the Wren—go, ask of the sunbeams.
Rage and reproaches cover the careless Owl—thenceforward
Crowds of birds pursue the sleeping, slovenly guardian:
Never again by day may he venture his hated intrusions—
Never, till twilight darkens, and night comes clouded in blackness.
Even his voice, when heard, awakens the hate of the songsters.
He, like the crafty hound, has track'd the footsteps of silence
Where the poor hare, thro' woods, o'er groves and lonely places,
Flies to be hidden, in vain—the fugitive soon is discovered.
So the Owl's wild scream brings every bird about him—
One long torment is his, and a permanent persecution.