Under the apple tree, somebody said,
“Look at that robin’s nest overhead!
All of sharp sticks, and of mud, and clay—
What a rough home for a summer day!”
Gaunt stood the apple tree, gaunt and bare,
And creaked in the winds which blustered there.
The nest was wet with the April rain;
The clay ran down in an ugly stain;
Little it looked, I must truly say,
Like a lovely home for a summer day.
Up in the apple tree, somebody laughed,
“Little you know of the true home-craft.
Laugh if you like, at my sticks and clay;
They’ll make a good home for a summer day.
May turns the apple tree pink and white,
Sunny all day, and fragrant all night.
My babies will never feel the showers,
............