A Tattie-Bogle;
And rook and daw and stare their pinions spread
Incontinent; for, so they judged the matter,
Some scowling foe stood there, and off they fled
With startled chatter.
A week the portent stood in sun and rain
And fluttered rags of dread. A sparrow, nathless,
Whose nestlings cried, dashed down and snatched a grain,
And got off scathless.
Emboldened, back she flew; to such good end