The Judge is like the Owl --
The Judge is like the Owl --
I've heard my Father tell --
And Owls do build in Oaks --
So here's an Amber Sill --
That slanted in my Path --
When going to the Barn --
And if it serve You for a House --
Itself is not in vain --
About the price -- 'tis small --
I only ask a Tune
At Midnight -- Let the Owl select
His favorite Refrain.
Poem by
Emily Dickinson
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