Her sight is short, she comes quite near; A foot to me's a mile to her; And she is known as Jenny Wren, The smallest bird in England. When I heard that little bird at first, Methought her frame would surely burst With earnest song. Oft had I seen Her running under leaves so green, Or in the grass when fresh and wet, As though her wings she would forget. And, seeing this, I said to her -- 'My pretty runner, you prefer To be a thing to run unheard Through leaves and grass, and not a bird!' 'Twas then she burst, to prove me wrong, Into a sudden storm of song; So very loud and earnest, I Feared she would break her heart and die. 'Nay, nay,' I laughed, 'be you no thing To run unheard, sweet scold, but sing! O I could hear your voice near me, Above the din in that oak tree, When almost all the twigs on top Had starlings singing without stop.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODULATIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MARIPOSA LILY by INA DONNA COOLBRITH THE OLD FLUTE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD PSALM 114 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 32. BEATI QUORUM REMISSA SUNT by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |