Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A WREN'S NEST, by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Among the dwellings framed by birds Last Line: In foresight, or in love. Subject(s): Birds; Birds' Nests; Wrens | ||||||||
AMONG the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little Wren's In snugness may compare. No door the tenement requires, And seldom needs a laboured roof; Yet is it to the fiercest sun Impervious, and storm-proof. So warm, so beautiful withal, In perfect fitness for its aim, That to the Kind by special grace Their instinct surely came. And when for their abodes they seek An opportune recess, The hermit has no finer eye For shadowy quietness. These find, 'mid ivied abbey-walls, A canopy in some still nook; Others are pent-housed by a brae That overhangs a brook. There to the brooding bird her mate Warbles by fits his low clear song; And by the busy streamlet both Are sung to all day long. Or in sequestered lanes they build, Where, till the flitting bird's return, Her eggs within the nest repose, Like relics in an urn. But still, where general choice is good, There is a better and a best; And, among fairest objects, some Are fairer than the rest; This, one of those small builders proved In a green covert, where, from out The forehead of a pollard oak, The leafy antlers sprout; For She who planned the mossy lodge, Mistrusting her evasive skill, Had to a Primrose looked for aid Her wishes to fulfil. High on the trunk's projecting brow, And fixed an infant's span above The budding flowers, peeped forth the nest The prettiest of the grove! The treasure proudly did I show To some whose minds without disdain Can turn to little things; but once Looked up for it in vain: 'Tis gone -- a ruthless spoiler's prey, Who heeds not beauty, love, or song, 'Tis gone! (so seemed it) and we grieved Indignant at the wrong. Just three days after, passing by In clearer light the moss-built cell I saw, espied its shaded mouth; And felt that all was well. The Primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves; And thus, for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives. Concealed from friends who might disturb Thy quiet with no ill intent, Secure from evil eyes and hands On barbarous plunder bent, Rest, Mother-bird! and when thy young Take flight, and thou art free to roam, When withered is the guardian Flower, And empty thy late home, Think how ye prospered, thou and thine, Amid the unviolated grove Housed near the growing Primrose-tuft In foresight, or in love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENVIOUS WREN by PHOEBE CARY THE THREE WRENS by PHOEBE CARY JENNY WREN by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES VISIT OF THE WRENS by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE SLEEP OF WOOD IN THE HOUSE OF WRENS by GEORGE LOONEY ONCE I COULD SAY by IRA SADOFF FOR A WINTER WREN by DAVID WAGONER CHILD'S TALK IN APRIL by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A JEWISH FAMILY; IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE ST. GOAR by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |
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