Of the Sparrow and the Goldfinch fine,
And the summer-heralding Lark.'
'We're the same old fellows, we love thee well,
Be thy heart from fretting free;
And hadst thou gone loafing yet further afar,
Still a calf we would slay for thee.'
The pilgrim sighed with tearful eye--
'Oh, priest, such a soothing word
As you have spoken, pious man,
In my travels I never heard.