A wise old owl sat on an oak; The more he saw the less he spoke; The less he spoke the more he heard; Why aren’t we like that wise old bird?
I can see, and that is why I can be happy, in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world.
The owl is abroad, the bat, and the toad, and so is the cat - black, and cold, and mute, and the gleam of a lighted grate.
A wise old owl lived in an oak, the more he saw the less he spoke, the less he spoke the more he heard. Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?