That e'er among the groves was heard,
Should aid the thankful chorus;
With chirping note I'll join the sound,
For not a Sparrow, 'twill be found,
Without his will falls to the ground,
Who high above reigns o'er us.
But what avail my feeble powers,
When softer notes descend in showers,
Mine are not worth regarding;
No honour'd title gilds my name,