The Little Bird Sits In The Nest And Sings A Shy, Soft Song To The Morning Light; And It Flutters A Little And Prunes Its Wings. The Song Is Halting And Poor And Brief, And The Fluttering Wings Scarce Stir A Leaf; But The Note Is A Prelude To Sweeter Things, And The Busy Bill And The Flutter Slight Are Proving The Wings For A Bolder Flight!