When the snows had melted, and the Fifth-month grass
Up this sea-shore, in some briars,
Two guests from Alabama—two together,
And their nest, and four light-green eggs spotted with brown;
And every day the he-bird, to and fro, near at hand,
And every day the she-bird, crouched on her nest, silent,
with bright eyes;
And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never
Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.
"A Word Out Of The Sea" by Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass.
Reprinted after The Walt Whitman Archive. In public domain.