A little bird, with plumage brown,Beside my window flutters down,A moment chirps its little strain,Ten taps upon my window-pane,And chirps again, and hops along,To call my notice to its song;But I work on, nor heed its lay,Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace and hope and loveCome fluttering earthward from above,To settle on life's window-sills,And ease our load of earthly ills;But we, in traffic's rush and dinToo deep engaged to let them in,With deadened heart and sense plod on,Nor know our loss till they are gone.
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