Classic Poem

Skyward above the mist and heather
She and her nimble comrades flew.
The clearest note the morning knew
Was hers, when, rallying down the blue,
They circled in the sun together.

Since then, with but a flower's tassel,
An osier blown across the moor,
To make her fateful walls secure,
With symmetry how graced and sure
She wove her garnerings to a castle!

No outer import shall entrance her.
The comrades skim the hillock's brow
To maple bough, to willow bough,
And, near her darkened chamber, now
They call her, and she will not answer.

She was so shy with every human
Before she nested in our tree.
Now she forgets the wilder wood,
Glad to be small and understood.