What the Sparrow Chirps - An 1871 Poem

By Pearl Rivers.

I am only a little sparrow,

A bird of low degree;

My life is of little value,

But the dear Lord careth for me.

 

He gave me a coat of feathers;

It is very plain, I know,

With never a speck of crimson,

For it was not made for show.

 

But it keeps me warm in winter,

And it shields me from the rain;

Were it bordered with gold or purple,

Perhaps it would make me vain.

 

And now that the spring-time cometh,

I will build me a little nest,

With many a chirp of pleasure,

In the spot I love the best.

 

I have no barn or storehouse,

I neither sow nor reap;

God gives me a sparrow's portion,

But never a seed to keep.

 

If my meal is sometimes scanty,

Close picking makes it sweet;

I have always enough to feed me,

And "life is more than meat."

 

I know there are many sparrows;

All over the world we are found,

But our heavenly Father knoweth

When on of us falls to the ground.

 

Though small, we are never forgotten;

Though weak, we are never afraid;

For we know that the dear Lord keepeth

The life of the creatures He made.

 

I fly through the thickest forest,

I light on many a spray;

I have to chart or compass,

But I never lose my way.

 

And I fold my wings at twilight,

Wherever I happen to be;

For the Father is always watching,

And no harm will come to me.

December 12, 1871. Staunton Spectator 49(12): 1.