To A Grey Crow

The night has shed it's pitch like cloak A misty April day has broke Songbirds are singing along the hedgerow And I hear the caw of a grey crow. There perched atop a sycamore That stands not far from my back door In feathers black and foggy gray Is this bird who seem sad today Come tell me what has been your sin Where are the others of your kin I wonder what makes you so sad When all of the other birds seem glad? Or could it be your best loved friend Has somewhere met with a violent end And could the bird have been your mate That I saw dead by Rohan's gate? Your kind of bird sheep farmers hate I wonder what will be your fate? Your kind cause many young lambs to die By cruely plucking out their eye. Are you that ruthless bird of prey Who killed three lambs the other day? Down at the farm of Edmond Rice On your kind he has put a price. In your kind there's a wicked streak You take advantage of the weak No mercy to the frail you show Your's is the meanest breed of crow. The owls and hawks I understand These birds cannot live off of the land To live a flesh eater must kill Their craws with meat these birds must fill. The owl a nocturnal bird of prey Hunts by night and sleeps by day A useful bird in many a way The vermin rat and mouse it slay. The hawk a bird of strength and skill Even pigeons it can kill But hawks do not commit the sin Of killing newly born lambkin. Grey crow by this time tomorrow You may have no care or sorrow By tomorrow you may be dead Your body full of shotgun lead. Some humans are much worse than you Look at the dreadful things they do They will use a gun or knife For to take another human's life. I watch this bird serene in flight Slow, slowly fading from my sight And I can only hope and pray That it will not die the violent way.