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. |