Blithely twitting, gayly flitting
Thro’ the budding glen;
Golden-crested, sunny-breasted,
Goes the tiny Wren.
Peeping, musing, picking, choosing,
Nook is found at last;
Moss and feather, twined together—
Home is shaped at last.

Brisk as ever, quick and clever,
Brimming with delight—
Six wee beauties, bring new duties,
Work from morn to night.
Peeping, musing, picking, choosing,
Nook is found at last;
Moss and feather, twined together—
Home is shaped at last.
—J. L. H.