THE little bird sits in the nest and sings A shy, soft song to the morning light; And it flutters a little and prunes its wings. The song is halting and poor and brief, And the fluttering wings scarce stir a leaf; But the note is a prelude to sweeter things, And the busy bill and the flutter slight Are proving the wings for a bolder flight! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOUNTAIN (2) by SARA TEASDALE SEVEN TIMES SIX [ - GIVING IN MARRIAGE] by JEAN INGELOW THE TREE ACROSS THE ROAD by ELIZABETH KELTY BEITEL HASTINGS' SONNETS: 1 by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES HOME, SWEET HOME WITH VARIATIONS: 4. AUSTIN DOBSON by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER |