THE WAG-TAIL

By brook and bent, Alert and diligent, All day my merry wag-tail went, Soberly clad She seemed, in feathers sad Which yet a fair white braiding had; Nor did she fail With jerking beak and tail Quite to dislodge th’ incurious snail, And thence away To the pollard where all day Her brown big-footed babies lay. —I do desire No better, nor look higher, Pied wag-tail, than thy plain attire; Nor would I roam Afar, but kindly come Back to th’ acclaiming mouths at home. Like thee to run About my works begun And pluck delights from ev’ry one. Where (might I do’t) Living, my only suit, And dead, my dearest attribute.