"The Sparrow'' 



By Thomas Guiiian 



"Cock of the walk" arc you, the caves trough, 



And the gutter. 

 Vou cannot sing a single note of song. 



You only sputter. 

 Cantankerous and savage, a combative 



Little cuss. 

 W ith a cliip ui)on your shoulder, ever ready, 



For a fuss. 

 Without regard for song birds or their right, 

 To live on earth, you rob their nests, 



Just for spite. 

 All through winter long, in cold, 



Snow and sleet. 

 You have to wallow, day after day, with 



Frozen feet. 

 While Robbins, Swallows, Blue-birds, and the 



Meadow Larks, 

 Are in some warm clime in lovely parks, 

 And yet I cannot help admire your 



Everlasting grit. 

 Your courage and a little bunch of wrath are you. 



And, worst of all, 

 I sometimes almost think that Satan 



Marked your fall. 

 With satisfaction that you had to take a tumble. 

 And for all time to come be the bird 



Most humble. 

 Aristocratic you can never be 



Among your kind. 

 When all the nabobs go south you 



Are left behind. 

 The Rluejay, though a thief, he has got 



The best of you, 

 In looks, at least, dressed in his dapper 



Suit of blue. 

 With graceful flight he soars where purest 



Air is found, 

 While you, in mud and mire content. 



Hop. on the ground. 

 Persistence in claiming 



"You are it." 



801 



