The aged warden of the ancient wood.
Then the gray-feathered fowl in the fullness of years
Is grievously stricken. From the green earth he fleeth,
155 The favorite of birds, from the flowering land,
And beareth his flight to a far-off realm,
To a distant domain where dwelleth no man,
As his native land. Then the noble fowl
Becometh ruler over the race of birds,
160 Distinguished in their tribe, and for a time he dwelleth
With them in the waste. Then on wings of strength,