 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
THE SQUIRREL'S NEST
One day, when all the woods were bare and blea,I wandered out to take a pleasant walk
And saw a strange-formed nest on stoven tree
Where startled pigeon buzzed from bouncing hawk.
I wondered strangely what the nest could be
And thought besure it was some foreign bird,
So up I scrambled in the highest glee,
And my heart jumped at every thing that stirred.
'Twas oval shaped; strange wonder filled my breast;
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When something bolted out—I turned to see—
And a brown squirrel pattered up the tree.
'Twas lined with moss and leaves, compact and strong;
I sluthered down and wondering went along.
| The Poems of John Clare | |