I go The Poets Beasts. 



" And he could tell how the shy squirrel fared, 

 Who often stood its busy toils to see ; 

 How against winter she was well prepared 

 With many a store in hollow root or tree, 

 As if being told what winter's wants would be ; 

 Its nuts and acorns he would often find, 

 And hips and haws too, heaped plenteously 

 In snug warm corner that broke off the wind, 

 With leafy nest made nigh, that warm green mosses lined." 



"Wingless squirrel," says Montgomery; so Cowper, 

 " swift as bird ; " and Charlotte Smith, at greater length — 



" Though plumeless, he can dart away, 

 Swift as the woodpecker or the jay, 



His sportive mates to woo ; 

 His summer's food is berries wild, 

 And last year's acorn cups are filled 



For him with sparking dew. 



Soft is his shining auburn coat, 

 As ermine white his downy throat, 



Intelligent his mien ; 

 With feathery tail and ears alert, 

 And little paws as hands expert, 



And eyes so black and keen. 



Soaring above the earth-born herd 

 Of beasts, he emulates the bird. 



Yet feels no want of wing ; 

 Exactly poised, he dares to launch 

 In air, and bounds from branch to branch, 



With swift elastic spring." 



Naturally enough, the poets admire the forethought of 

 the squirrel in furnishing its Uirder against the winter — 



" Within some old fantastic tree, 

 Wiiere time has worn a cavity. 

 His winter food is stored j 



