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For every bird a nest, Wherefore in timid quest Some little wren goes seeking round.
Wherefore where boughs are free, Households in every tree, Pilgrim be found?
Perhaps a home too high— Ah, aristocracy!— The little wren desires.
The lark is not ashamed To build upon the ground Her modest house.
Yet who of all the throng Dancing around the sun Does so rejoice?
