She pecks the earth for every second, Young Jenny Wren, while on the run: 'Come, Love, and watch this little darling; Come, see this pretty little one.' 'Why waste such precious words on birds?' Said jealous Love, not liking this. 'They are but words, my Love,' said I — 'To make birds jealous when we kiss!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO OUR MOCKING-BIRD; DIED OF A CAT, MAY, 1878 by SIDNEY LANIER MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE SHRUBBERY, WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION by WILLIAM COWPER THE MEMORY OF MARTHA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHEN ON THE MARGE OF EVENING by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE THIRD DAY: AZRAEL by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |