A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass—
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his Velvet Head—

Like one in danger, cautious,
I wrung my hands—
I could not see a bird—
I only thought it was—

• Emily Dickinson