JENNY WREN.

Jenny Wren's a lady,
Very quiet she:
That's her pretty mansion
In the hollow tree.
Peep into her parlor,
Carpeted with down;
There you'll see her sitting
In her modest gown.
Jenny Wren is busy,
Summer days are near,
And she has a houseful:
Listen, and you'll hear.
Little mouths are open
From the hour she wakes,
And to feed her darlings
All her time it takes.
Jenny Wren is moving:
Breezes hurry by;
Purple leaves are falling;
Chilly grows the sky.
Long before the snowflakes
Through the orchard roam,
Should you call on Jenny,
Nobody's at home.
GEORGE COOPER.