Hush! ’Tis he!

My oriole, my glance of summer fire,

Is come at last, and, ever on the watch,

Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound

About the bough to help his housekeeping—

Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck,

Yet fearing me who laid it in his way,

Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs,

Divines the providence that hides and helps.

—James Russell Lowell, “Under the Willows.”