whate'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say.

then down he shot, bounced airily along

the sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song

midflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again.

sweet science, this large riddle read me plain:

how may the death of that dull insect be

the life of yon trim shakespeare, on the tree?

sidney lanier.