To the Nuthatch

Hark! the shrill voice, but soft and clear,
Of a small bird, so bright and dear —
O thou, who clambers up the tree,
Thou joyful hymnist, Nuthatch, see!

Like a gay conqueror proud and high
You seem to wreathe by such agility
And build a nest, from near or aphorism,
How elated and full of bliss!

Go, then, a little louder sing,
To fill the hollow woods with spring
And bid the flowers spread their beams,
And bless the promise of the streams!

Thou joyful bird, sing on and swell
Thy tiny notes upon the knell;
A song like yours from every tree
Is nature’s hymn in every spree!

• Thomas Hood