How fresh the air, the birds how busy now! In every walk if I but peep I find Nests newly made or finished all and lined With hair and thistledown, and in the bough Of little hawthorn, huddled up in green, The leaves still thickening as the spring gets age, The pink's, quite round and snug and closely laid, And linnet's of materials loose and rough; And still hedge-sparrow, moping in the shade Near the hedge-bottom, weaves of homely stuff, Dead grass and mosses green, an hermitage For secrecy and shelter rightly made; And beautiful it is to walk beside The lanes and hedges where their homes abide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNDER THE WATERFALL by THOMAS HARDY THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET by JOHN KEATS THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING PALACE by ALFRED TENNYSON EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 2 by LUCY AIKEN TO HASEKAWA by WALTER CONRAD ARENSBERG NO HEIGHTS by NELLIE GRAY BOURDEAUX |