Study Desk

The wing of the Ostrich that waveth itself joyfully, Is it the pinion of lovingkindness or the plumage?

For she leaveth - to the earth - her eggs, and, on the dust, she letteth them be warmed;

And hath forgotten, that, a foot, may crush them, - or, the wild beast, tread on them!

Dealing hardly with her young, as none-of hers, In vain, her labour, without dread.

For GOD hath suffered her to forget wisdom, and given her no share in understanding.

What time, on high, she vibrateth her wings, she laugheth at the horse and his rider.

Couldst thou give - to the Horse - strength? Couldst thou clothe his neck with the quivering mane?

Couldst thou cause him to leap like a locust? The majesty of his snort, is a terror!

He diggeth into the plain, and rejoiceth in vigour, he goeth forth to meet armour;

He laugheth at dread, and is not dismayed, neither turneth he back, from the face of the sword;

Against him, whiz the arrows of the quiver, the flashing head of spear and javelin;

With stamping and rage, he drinketh up the ground, - he will not stand still when the horn soundeth;

As oft as the horn soundeth, he saith, Aha! And, from afar, he scenteth the battle, - the thunder of commanders and the war-cry.

Is it, by thine understanding, that the Bird of Passage betaketh him to his pinions? spreadeth out his wings to the south?

Or, at thy bidding, that the Eagle mounteth, and that he setteth on high his nest?

The crag, he inhabiteth, and so lodgeth himself, on the tooth of the crag, and high fort;

From thence, he searcheth out food, far away, his eyes do pierce;

And, his young brood, suck up blood, and, where the slain are, there, is he.