A BLUEBIRD lives in yonder tree,

Likewise a little chickadee,

In two woodpeckers’ nests, rent free.

There, where the weeping willow weeps,

A dainty house-wren sweetly cheeps;

From an old oriole’s nest she peeps.

I see the English sparrow tilt

Upon a limb with sun begilt;

Her nest an ancient swallow built.

So it was one of your old jests,

Eh, Mig. Cervantes, that attests

“There are no birds in last year’s nests?”