The Owl

Here is a tale for ladies with romances: There was an owl; composer and musician, Who looked as wise as if he had a mission, And at all art cast supercilious glances. People proclaimed him great because he said it; And, like the great, he never played, nor printed His compositions, 'though 'twas whispered, hinted He'd written something but no one had read it. Owl-eyed he posed at functions of position, Hirsute, and eye-glassed, looking analytic, Opening his mouth to worshipping female knowledge: And then he married. A woman of ambition. A singer, teacher, and a musical critic. Just what he wanted. He became a college.