"All overgrown by cunning moss," (146)

All overgrown by cunning moss,

All interspersed with weed,

The little cage of “Currer Bell”

In quiet “Haworth” laid.

This Bird - observing others

When frosts too sharp became

Retire to other latitudes -

Quietly did the same -

But differed in returning -

Since Yorkshire hills are green -

Yet not in all the nests I meet -

Can Nightingale be seen -

Structure

12 lines · 3 stanzas