I walked along with him to home,
At the edge of a singing stream—
The little faces in the town
Seemed made out of a dream.
I sat down in the little house,
And ate with the kind things—
Then suddenly a bird comes out
Of the bushes, and he sings:
"Have you no home? O take my nest,
It almost is the sky;"
And then there came along the creek
A purple dragon-fly.
"Have you no home?" he said;
"O come along with me,
Get on my wings—the moon's my home"—
The dragon-fly said he.
The Bee was told by a young Bat
A man had need of home;
He flew away at once, and said
"Come to my honeycomb!"
Even the butterfly,
A painted hour;
Said to the homeless one:
"I know a flower."
The Ant came slowly,
Late, of course, but still
Bringing the tiny welcome
Of his hill.
The tired turtle,
Fumbling through the wood,
Came, asking hospitably
"If I would?"
Even a hornet came,
With sheathed sting,—
He never yet had seen
So lost a thing!
There was his nest
Up in the singing boughs,
Among the pears,
A fragrant humming house.