Never plaintive nor appealing,
Quite at home when thou art stealing,
Always groomed to tip of feather,
Calm and trim in every weather,
Morn till night my woods policing,
Every sound thy watch increasing.
Hawk and owl in tree-top hiding
Feel the shame of thy deriding.
Naught escapes thy observation,
None but dread thy accusation.
Hunters, prowlers, woodland lovers
Vainly seek the leafy covers.
III
Never plaintive nor appealing,
Quite at home when thou art stealing,
Noisy, scheming, and predacious,
With demeanor almost gracious,
Dowered with leisure, void of hurry,
Void of fuss and void of worry,