In two woodpeckers’ nests, rent free.
There, where the weeping willow weeps,
A dainty house-wren sweetly cheeps;
From an old oriole’s nest she peeps.
I see the English sparrow tilt
Upon a limb with sun begilt;
Her nest an ancient swallow built.
So it was one of your old jests,
Eh, Mig. Cervantes, that attests
“There are no birds in last year’s nests?”