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The Judge is like the Owl
Emily Dickinson
699 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.
