  John Fane Dingle By Rumney Brook Shot a crop-eared owl, For pigeon mistook: Caught her by the lax wing. —She, as she dies, Thrills his warm soul through With her deep eyes. Corpse-eyes are eerie: Tiger-eyes fierce: John Fane Dingle found Owl-eyes worse. Owl-eyes on night-clouds, Constant as Fate: Owl-eyes in baby’s face: On dish and plate: Owl-eyes, without sound. —Pale of hue John died of no complaint, With owl-eyes too. |
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