Swinging from every branchlet's end
There, too, the nine brown sisters talked
In his green smithy stoutly plied
Ringing from dawn till evening tide —
Falls " klink, klank, klink," upon the ear ;
And social weavers who we, from fear
Swinging from every branchlet's end
There, too, the nine brown sisters talked
Of thievish snakes, their nests suspend
The silver-feathered egret stalked ;
The muscled-baug — " tiger of fish "
Shot from the air with arrowy swish
And soared again — his pearly prey
Clutched in red talons. All the day
You heard the necklaced jungle-dove