The Tree Calf by Carolyn Wells

The sportive Tree Calf here we see,
He builds his nest up in a tree;
To this strange dwelling-place he cleaves
Because he is so fond of leaves.
‘Twas his ancestral cow, I trow,
Jumped o’er the moon, so long ago.
But he is not so great a rover,
Though at the last he runs to cover.

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