and when i saw him stamping over

my little patch of shrubs and clover,

his steel bright gun held shoulder high

i scarce could check, a smothered cry.

because i knew your nest was low

so shuddered when i saw him go.

a gunshot and i scarce could see

you had flown screaming to a tree.

o little bird with troubled breast,

a miracle has saved your nest.

i’m sorry you were frightened so,

you should not build your nest so low.