 | Birds, Bees and Blossoms |  |
28
THE RESTLESS BIRD.
Although I do not know your name,Nor can I tell from whence you came,
Yet never such a restless fellow
Before wore suit of green and yellow.
A treasure would a footman be
Possessing thy agility.
A chirrup here, a chirrup there,
Seeming to come from everywhere.
Pray what's the matter with that fruit?
He jerks his head—it does not suit.
He does not like those trees in blossom,
But spreads his wings and flies across 'em,
Hops first on that bough, then on this,
And never doth his footing miss,
But down descends with step secure,
Knowing his eye and foot are sure.
29
Another spring, no one knows where;
And now he seems to dance a jig
Upon that ever-bending twig;
And now he has another notion,
And with a soft and noiseless motion,
He on the topmost spray alights:
Another distant branch invites.
I plainly see he won't remain;
He spreads his wings and's off again,
And now he's on the old oak stump.
Thou'rt like a child at hop-step-and-jump,
That runs away and cries out “Whoop:”
A tumbler dashing through a hoop:
A girl that holds her head aside,
Shakes it, and pouts her lips in pride,
Then smiles and dances to herself:
All these and more, thou woodland elf;
There's nothing with thee to compare,
Nought like that ever-changing air;
That strut, that swagger, and that stare;
But oh! thou art as sweet a bird
As ever leaf or blossom stirred:
In vain I may search far and wide
For actions so diversified.
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