and oft an unintruding guest,

i watched her secret toils from day to day;

how true she warped the moss to form the nest,

and modeled it within with wood and clay.

and by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew,

there lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers,

ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue:

and there i witnessed in the summer hours

a brood of nature's minstrels chirp and fly,

glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky.

john clare.