THE WAG-TAIL
By brook and bent, Alert and diligent, All day my merry wag-tail went,
Soberly clad She seemed, in feathers sad Which yet a fair white braiding had;
Nor did she fail With jerking beak and tail Quite to dislodge th’ incurious snail,
And thence away To the pollard where all day Her brown big-footed babies lay.
—I do desire No better, nor look higher, Pied wag-tail, than thy plain attire;
Nor would I roam Afar, but kindly come Back to th’ acclaiming mouths at home.
Like thee to run About my works begun And pluck delights from ev’ry one.
Where (might I do’t) Living, my only suit, And dead, my dearest attribute.