Once Paumanok,
When the lilac-scent was in the air and Fifth-month grass was growing,
Up this seashore in some briars,
Two feather’d 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 crouch’d on her nest, silent, with bright eyes,
And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturbing them,
Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.—W.W.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 