An Ode To A Raven

O ! the most intelligent of birds

What art made of thou

Unwanted and unwelcomed

In every house thou.

Thou not sing

For poets, Kings or queens

Nor thy song is praised

In any means.

Not thou art fed

Or kept in cells,

Not art followed

By country damsels.

Edgar Allan Poe's

Lost love and despair,

Exponent of evil thou

In eyes of Shakespeare.

Messenger of storms,

And of bad weather,

Thou art too

The death of forecaster.

Thou not Keats' Nightingale,

Nor art Shelley's Skylark,

Poor Raven thou

With a black mark.

Of animals even hound

Thou stealer of food,

Go on forewarning thou

Cawing so loud.

Thou art made target

As they want to hide,

The upcoming disaster,

Human plagued with fear and pride.

As an apprehensive messenger,

Fore-warner of the evil.

Go on cawing aloud

Needless of thy fate ill.