| Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | | To a Swallow Building under our Eaves (1832) | | By Jane Welsh Carlyle (1806–1866) |
| | | THOU too hast travelled, little fluttering thing— | |
| Hast seen the world, and now thy weary wing | |
| Thou too must rest. | |
| But much, my little bird, couldst thou but tell, | |
| I’d give to know why here thou lik’st so well | 5 |
| To build thy nest. | |
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| For thou hast passed fair places in thy flight; | |
| A world lay all beneath thee where to light; | |
| And, strange thy taste, | |
| Of all the vari’d scenes that met thine eye— | 10 |
| Of all the spots for building ’neath the sky— | |
| To choose this waste. | |
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| Did fortune try thee? was thy little purse | |
| Perchance run low, and thou, afraid of worse, | |
| Felt here secure? | 15 |
| Ah, no! thou need’st not gold, thou happy one! | |
| Thou know’st it not. Of all God’s creatures, man | |
| Alone is poor! | |
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| What was it, then? some mystic turn of thought, | |
| Caught under German eaves, and hither brought, | 20 |
| Marring thine eye | |
| For the world’s loveliness, till thou art grown | |
| A sober thing that dost but mope and moan | |
| Not knowing why? | |
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| Nay, if thy mind be sound, I need not ask, | 25 |
| Since here I see thee working at thy task | |
| With wing and beak. | |
| A well-laid scheme doth that small head contain, | |
| At which thou work’st, brave bird, with might and main, | |
| Nor more need’st seek. | 30 |
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| In truth, I rather take it thou hast got | |
| By instinct wise much sense about thy lot, | |
| And hast small care | |
| Whether an Eden or a desert be | |
| Thy home so thou remain’st alive and free | 35 |
| To skim the air. | |
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| God speed thee, pretty bird; may thy small nest | |
| With little ones all in good time be blest. | |
| I love thee much; | |
| For well thou managest that life of thine, | 40 |
| While I! Oh, ask not what I do with mine! | |
| Would I were such! | | | | |
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