Can't See The Good Which Sparrows Do
Hardy clowns! grudge not the wheat Which hunger forces birds to eat: Your blinded eyes, worst foes to you, Can't see the good which sparrows do. Did not poor birds with watching rounds Pick up the insects from your grounds, Did they not tend your rising grain, You then might sow to reap in vain. Thus Providence, right understood, Whose end and aim is doing good, Sends nothing here without its use; Though ignorance loads it with abuse, And fools despise the blessing sent, And mock the Giver's good intent.-- O God, let me what's good pursue, Let me the same to others do As I'd have others do to me, And learn at least humanity.