And oft an unintruding guest, 



I watched her secret toils from day to day ; 

 How true she warped the moss to form the nest, 



And modeled it within with wood and clay. 

 And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew, 



There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers, 

 Ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue : 



And there I witnessed in the summer hours 

 A brood of Nature's minstrels chirp and fly, 

 Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky. 



John Clare. 



