<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357894" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Grey Goshawk</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a flutter in the trees,<br>And now a sudden, dread unease<br>Stills all the bushland melodies<br>Amid the gums;<br>Stills now the song of wren and thrush,<br>Robin and honeyeater hush.<br>Now, with a swoop, a whistling rush,<br>Grey goshawk comes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the threat: the dread king.<br>Grim Azrael, is on the wing,<br>And every little living thing<br>Dares scarce a breath.<br>And now a parrot, shrill with fear,<br>Flies dodging there and doubling here<br>Thro' inlaced limbs, in mad career<br>From lusting death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grey ghost, grey death, I work my will<br>O'er forest dense, o'er wood hill,<br>And on some tree-top rend my kill<br>With reddened beak.<br>There is no have in the tree,<br>There is no habor safe from me;<br>In many a singing sanctuary<br>My meat I seek.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beware! The swift grey ghost is out!<br>Be still! Grey death lurks near about!<br>Crouch close! Shrink low! ... But have no doubt<br>I've marked my kill.<br>Grim nemesis. I never fail;<br>Gaint hunger is my spur, my flail.<br>I feast. And now away I sail<br>O'er the far hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357894" data-title="The Grey Goshawk de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="There is a flutter in the trees, And now a sudden, dread unease Stills all the bushland melodies Amid the gums; Stills now the song of wren and thrush, Robin and honeyeater hush. Now, with a swoop, a whistling rush, Grey goshawk comes. I am the t..."></div> </div> </div>

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