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Thus the fable tells us, that the wren mounted as high as the eagle, by getting upon his back.

And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.

I took the wren's nest;-- Heaven forgive me! Its merry architects so small Had scarcely finished their wee hall, That empty still, and nest and fair, Hung idly in the summer air.

For the poor wren will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.

Among the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little wren's In snugness may compare.