Sate The Wise Owl
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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Sate the wise Owl
Sate on its thick bough
The winter was not deep
But was begun
And just
The broken heart that
In September waned
And in the summer faded
Faded slow
That broken heart
In silence found its sway
For wisdom in silence breeds
Most time thoughts propense
To such variation and
Experiment
That Silence be preferred to
A loud Voice.
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