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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.
