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Walter de la Mare - The Titmouse
Work rating: Low

    If you would happy company win,
    Dangle a palm-nut from a tree,
    Idly in green to sway and spin,
    Its snow-pulped kernel for bait; and see,
    A nimble titmouse enter in.

    Out of earth`s vast unknown of air,
    Out of all summer, from wave to wave,
    He`ll perch, and prank his feathers fair,
    Jangle a glass-clear wildering stave,
    And take his commons there —

    This tiny son of life; this spright,
    By momentary Human sought,
    Plume will his wing in the dappling light,
    Clash timbrel shrill and gay —
    And into time`s enormous nought,
    Sweet-fed, will flit away.
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