The Nighthawk

When I was a boy, — I’ll never say when;
But the boys of ten were not old as men,—
The nighthawk seemed the funniest bird 
I ever had heard; upon my word 
A wonderful thing, with that boys' delight, 
A free-pass circus every night.
Two words he uttered, and only those;
He speaks them still, — they are all he knows:
"Beef!" - like the Punch and Judy man,
"Pork!" —like the Giant Cormoran.

When the summer sun is sinking low, 
     And you see it red through the apple-boughs,
The farm-boy starts with glee to go 
     To the old stone pasture for the cows, 
With his eye on high to the cloudless sky;
     For then the nighthawk, full of his sky talk,
Climbs the heavens and utters his cry, 
     Shrill and brief: " Beef! Beef!"

At first one sees, just over the trees, 
The bird go fluttering up at his ease,
By slow degrees, in a wavering way, 
Like an errand boy inclined to play;
And at every height of his jerky flight, 
Till he rises almost out of sight, 
That comical cry comes down the sky, 
Like an arrow from Diana's sheaf:
                  "Beef! Beef!"

Standing under, you look and wonder 
How far will he rise in the blue up yonder?
And think, alack! will he ever come back?
He has passed two signs of the Zodiac, 
Aries and Taurus, — the sheep and the ox, 
We see here feeding among the rocks.
Then suddenly down from his dizzy summit 
He plunges, straight as a joiner's plummet;
So swiftly down you fancy his bones 
Will be crushed to splinters among the stones;
But just as you shudder for poor nighthawk
               In his madcap work,
He turns short up with his cry of "Pork!" 
Hoarse and hollow; and then you follow 
The new flight up, of the sauntering rover, 
Playing the same part over and over;
Forever a wonder, and ever a joy, 
To the eager soul of the farmer's boy, 
Who cannot guess, in his thoughtlessness, 
What is the meaning of all this show 
In the great blue tent in the evening glow, 
With "beef" so high and "pork" so low.