Both read the Bible day and night, But thou read'st black where I read white

Both read the Bible day and night, but thou read black where I read white.

The crow wished everything was black, the owl, that every thing was white.

My mother bore me in the southern wild, / And I am black, but O! my soul is white.

O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm, That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy; And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy

Am not IA fly like thee?Or art not thouA man like me?