Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/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 where boughs are free,
Households in every tree,
Pilgrim be found?

Perhaps a home too high—
Ah, aristocracy!—
The little wren desires.

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?

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