22 JANUARY 1887, Page 15

POETRY.

THE OWL.

BRIGHT gleams from yonder moated hall

The ruddy glow that strikes the rafter ; Like Dreamland's twilight echoes, fall The strains of music, and the laughter : Soft moonbeams o'er my downy pate (Sloped sideways) steal, and set me blinking, Yet dazzle not the thoughts sedate That muster when an Owl is thinking.

Like jays, is man's fantastic brood,—

So owls decide,—all mirth and chatter; But Wisdom's court is solitude,

Her "happiness no laughing matter." No cares this tranquil soul assail,

Past, present, future, calmly linking ; The universe in mental scale Is balanced when an Owl is thinking.