01.01.2011, 12:40
THE SPARROW AND THE DEW-DROP.
When to the birds their morning meal I threw,
Beside one perky candidate for bread
There flash'd and wink'd a tiny drop of dew,
But while I gazed, I lost them, both had fled ;
His careless tread had struck the blade-hung tear,
And all its silent beauty fell away ;
And left, sole relic of the twinkling sphere,
A sparrow's dabbled foot upon a spray ;
Bold bird ! that didst efface a lovely thing
Before a poet's eyes ! I've half a mind.
Could I but single thee from out thy kind.
To mulct thee in a crumb ; a crumb to thee
Is not more sweet than that fair drop to me ;
Fie on thy little foot and thrumming wing !
When to the birds their morning meal I threw,
Beside one perky candidate for bread
There flash'd and wink'd a tiny drop of dew,
But while I gazed, I lost them, both had fled ;
His careless tread had struck the blade-hung tear,
And all its silent beauty fell away ;
And left, sole relic of the twinkling sphere,
A sparrow's dabbled foot upon a spray ;
Bold bird ! that didst efface a lovely thing
Before a poet's eyes ! I've half a mind.
Could I but single thee from out thy kind.
To mulct thee in a crumb ; a crumb to thee
Is not more sweet than that fair drop to me ;
Fie on thy little foot and thrumming wing !