How To Tell The Birds From The Flowers And Other Wood-cuts

I always sing the hymn of hate,

When I perceive the Ray (or skate)

His ugly mouth I can't abide,

His eyes are on the other side,

His features are all out of place

He hasn't even any face.

I do not mind the Raven, though

Maligned by Edgar Allan Poe:

By his fun-er-ial array

We recognize him from the Ray,

Whose epiderm is white as snow,

Not black as night, like Mr Crow.

Though black, morose, and quite unshaven

I'm sure we all prefer the Raven.