Classic Poem

There was an old owl,
With eyes big and bright,
Who sung in a treetop
One calm summer night.
And the song that he sung
I will now sing to you —
" To whit! To whoo, hoo!
To whit! To whoo, hoo! "

He sang there all night
Till early next morn,
When a crow came along
That was looking for corn.
The crow heard him singing,
" To whit! To whoo, hoo! "
And offered to sing
A few notes that he knew.

Just then the old owl
In the treetop so high,
With his classical shape
And his big staring eye,
Requested the crow,
In the deepest of scorn,
To sing his old chestnut
About stealing corn.

" Caw! Caw! " said the crow,
" Well — my deeds are by light.
I do n't steal young chickens
And sit up all night,
With dew on my feathers;
When I break the laws
In looking through cornfields
It's not without caws. "