136 THE TITMOUSE. 
Here he comes!—See how drolly he looketh 
askew ;— 
And now hangs head downward; now glances 
on you! 
Be not rash, though he light on your apricot- 
bough,— 
Though he touches a bud,—there, he touches 
it now! 
There, he’s got what he wanted, and off he 
has flown !— 
Now look at the apricot bud,—is it gone? 
Not the apricot bud,—but the grub that was 
in it !— 
You may thank him,—he does you a service 
each minute. 
Then love the poor Titmouse, and welcome 
him too, 
Great beauty is there in his yellow and blue; 
He’s a fine cheerful fellow—so let him be free 
Of your garden—to build in your wall or your 
tree ! 
