Jackdaw

ALOOF from his tribe On the elm-tree's top, A jackdaw perched A hand-reach up. Silent he sat On the branch, nor stirred, And I saw m him A changeling bird. Grass was worn Round pots and a pan, A flea-bitten horse, And a tilted van, Where tinker's or gypsy's Brats at play Made vagrant's game of Some citizen's way. I watched the daw On the branch, beguiled: I saw a vagrant From the wild. The entail broken What had he? The humour of one Out of his degree. The franchise of one Without kith or kind, And only the pauper's Single mind! The daws on the elms Kept tribal speech, And he perched there, Within a hand's reach- He flew; his flight Neither high nor wide Was a vagabond's To a seedman's stride. A dog on the ground Was rubbing for fleas; Rags were there He fluttered to these: Held a bright rag up Like a banner won, And went and hid it Behind a stone!