THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS
The day was gone,
The night came on.
The Monks and the Friars they search'd till dawn;
When the Sacristan saw,
On crumpled claw,
Come limping a poor little lame Jackdaw !
No longer gay,
As on yesterday ;
His feathers all seem'd to be turn'd the wrong
way ;—
His pinions droop'd—he could hardly stand,— 10
His head was as bald as the palm of your hand ;
His eye so dim,
So wasted each limb,
That, heedless of grammar, they all cried, " THAT'S
HIM !—
That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing !
That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's
Ring ! "
The poor little Jackdaw,
When the Monks he saw,
Feebly gave vent to the ghost of a caw ;
And turn'd his bald head, as much as to say 20
" Pray, be so good as to walk this way ! "
Slower and slower
He limp'd on before,
Till they came to the back of the belfry door,
Where the first thing they saw.
Midst the sticks and the straw,
Was the RING in the nest of that little Jackdaw !
Then the great Lord Cardinal call'd for his
book,
And off that terrible curse he took ;
The mute expression 30
Served in lieu of confession,
i6g