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Poem	A moment too late, my beautiful bird,—A moment too late are you now,The wind has your soft, downy nest disturbed,—The nest that you hung on the bough.A moment too late,—that string in your billWould have fastened it firmly and strong;But see, there it goes rolling over the hill!Oh! you tarried a moment too long.A moment too late,—too late, busy bee,The honey has dropped from the flower;No use to creep under the petals to see,—It stood ready to drop for an hour.A moment too late,—had you sped on your wing,The honey would not have been gone;But see what a very,—a very sad thing,’Tis to tarry a moment too long.[Pg 021]
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