To a Meadow Lark

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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.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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