Oft it is a sullen owl—
Pallas' learnëd pensive fowl,
Hooting hoarsely 'mong the trees;
And again, o'er troubled seas
As a petrel bold it wings
Tirelessly. Sometimes it sings
Lark-like in the heavens' scope
When dew gleams on grassy slope.
Roaming meadows, daisy-decked,
'Tis a child afoot, unchecked,