FROM HAWK AND KITE

Poor, frightened, fluttered, silent one!

If we had seen your nest of clay

We would have passed it by, and gone,

Nor frightened you away.

For there are others guard a nest

From hawk and kite and lurking foe,

And more despair is in their breast

Than you can ever know.

Shield the nests where'er they be,

On the ground or on the tree;

Guard the poor from treachery.