Firetail Finches

Like little children out from school
   We come in bevies, primly gay;
On sunlit lawns and shadow cool
   With meek propriety we play,
And in and out about the ground
   We weave, not for a moment still;
Determined, ere the daylight pass,
   To make our fun and eat our fill.

Our crimson kirtles bob about
   As here and there we bend and prance;
And in an out, and in and out,
   Like little children at a dance --
Friendly we are, and nothing strange,
   We'll tarry with you all the day,
Providing that you can arrange
   Good faring, and a field to play.

We build our quaint nest swinging low
   Like childish stockings from a peg --
Hung topsy-turvy by the toe,
   The snug heel holding many an egg.
We set them in the scrubs remote
   Where no trespasser rude may roam,
And sit and sound a plaintive note
   To call a lagard help-mate home.

Watch when the late spring days are here;
   Watch in some meadow by a stream,
When cobwebs drift and disappear
   And every drab day is a dream;
Watch till a crimson kirtle's spied
   In sunlit grass or shadow cool.
Here comes our bevy, straggling wide,
   Like little children out from school.