Behold the fowls of the air . .
are ye not much better than they?
Matthew 6:26
We have occasional callers,
But many feathered friends;
Still more with Afric's warblers
When dreary winter ends;
They fill the air with music,
Some sing and others screech,
And in their care for offspring,
To many-lessons teach.
The bold and perky sparrow
Outnumbers all the rest;
The friendly robin redbreast
We seem to love the best.
Here comes the plump wood-pigeon
From fields with well-filled crop;
The blackbird and his brownie,
Who sing. and peck, and hop.
The rude and selfish starling,
Who flies to town to rest;
The graceful, long-tailed magpie,
Who robs another's nest:
The thrush, a speckled songster,
And many more we know;
Whoever can be lonely
With friends who come and go?
We pardon thieves in plumage
Who nip the cherry tree,
For pests, the gard'ner's worry,
We seldom ever see.
For birds be ever thankful,
Though farmers sometimes fear;
Without this avian service,
Lean harvests would appear.
Our friends appear well-nourished:
For God feeds one and all,
And watching o'er them daily,
He notes the sparrow's fall.
His people are more precious
Than fowls that flit the sky,
So, if they're over-anxious,
The birds may well ask, "Why?"
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