BIRDS IN THE SNOW

CHILD
I wish I were a little bird
When the sun shines
And the wind whispers low,
Through the tall pines,
I'd rock in the elm tops,
Rifle the pear-tree,
Hide in the cherry boughs,

O such a rare tree!
I wish I were a little bird;
All summer long
I'd fly so merrily
Sing such a song!
Song that should never cease
While daylight lasted,
Wings that should never tire
Howe'er they hasted.

MOTHER
But if you were a little bird—
My baby-blossom.
Nestling so cosily
In mother's bosom,—
A bird, as we see them now,
When the snows harden,
And the wind's blighting breath
Howls round the garden:

What would you do, poor bird,
In winter drear?
No nest to creep into,
No mother near:
Hungry and desolate,
Weary and woeful,
All the earth bound with frost,
All the sky snow-full?

CHILD (thoughtfully).
That would be sad, and yet
Hear what I'd do—
Mother, in winter time
I'd come to you!
If you can like the birds
Spite of their thieving,
Give them your trees to build,
Garden to live in,

I think if I were a bird
When winter comes
I'd trust you, mother dear,
For a few crumbs,
Whether I sang or not,
Were lark, thrush, or starling.—

MOTHER (aside).
Then—Father—I trust Thee
With this my darling.