. Lilt o' the birds . THE SONG SPARROW ^S His pleasing song falls on the ear Of early passerbyWith high-keyed tones, full, vibrant, clear. And wakes a glad replyIn natures heart and, like a call Of springs reveille, bringsThe drowsy buds to hfe, while all The earth with music ^ [13] THE WOUNDED BIRD O STRICKEN bird, what cruel fate Has filled with woe thy gentle breast?What wanton fiend hath lain in waitTo tear thee from thy loving mate,Thy helpless fledglings in the nest? Ah, struggle not in vain to fly And torture more thy broken wing;Thy mute appeal for help, dim with
. Lilt o' the birds . THE SONG SPARROW ^S His pleasing song falls on the ear Of early passerbyWith high-keyed tones, full, vibrant, clear. And wakes a glad replyIn natures heart and, like a call Of springs reveille, bringsThe drowsy buds to hfe, while all The earth with music ^ [13] THE WOUNDED BIRD O STRICKEN bird, what cruel fate Has filled with woe thy gentle breast?What wanton fiend hath lain in waitTo tear thee from thy loving mate,Thy helpless fledglings in the nest? Ah, struggle not in vain to fly And torture more thy broken wing;Thy mute appeal for help, dim with tears a stoics eye. From hardest heart a sigh would wring. Oh, couldst thou speak, what anguished tale Wouldst thou outpour in Pitys ear!Dost think of thy dear birdlings frailAs, bleeding there, thy pulses failAnd thou beholdest death so near? They call—Ah me, thou canst not go! No more the shelter of thy wingAnd downy breast thy young may know;No more may mother-love bestow On them its care, nor comfort bring. That morsel, which thou boldest still In death, tells of thy quest for food;Tells of thy homeward flight to fillThose hungry mouths, nor boding ill,To nestle oer thy little brood. [14] Alas, alas! In vain they call. In vain their httle mouths they op
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Keywords: ., bookauthorpickhard, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1912
