Perched high aloft, in stately pine,
An object greets the eyes;
A mass of brush and limbs entwine
The Home of one that flies.
With cautious tread I near the spot,
To get a better view;
When suddenly I find my plot
Is known by others, too.
A whir of wings, a piercing scream,
Puts courage to the test—
An Eagle—of all birds, supreme—
Has come to guard its nest.
With hurried pace I make retreat,
Nor speak an unkind word;
I'm not ashamed of my defeat,
'Twas Uncle Sammy's bird.