Emily Dickinson Poem

For every Bird a Nest

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For every Bird a Nest—

Wherefore in timid quest

Some little Wren goes seeking round—

 

Wherefore when boughs are free—

Households in every tree—

Pilgrim be found?

 

Perhaps a home too high—

Ah Aristocracy!

The little Wren desires—

 

Perhaps of twig so fine—

Of twine e’en superfine,

Her pride aspires—

 

The Lark is not ashamed

To build upon the ground

Her modest house—

 

Yet who of all the throng

Dancing around the sun

Does so rejoice?

For largest Woman's Hearth I knew
For each ecstatic instant

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