" And we, yet again descending
To become the least of all,
Take our name as ' only sparrows ! '
And are slighted till we fall ;
" Still we're happy, happy, happy,
Never minding what we be ;
For we have a work and do it,
Therefore very blithe are we.
" We enliven sombre winter,
And we're loved while it doth last,
And we're not the only creatures
Who must live upon the past.
" With a chirrup, chirrup, chirrup,
We let all the slights go by,
And we do not find they hurt us
Or becloud the summer sky.
" We are happy, happy, happy,
Never minding what we be ;
For we know the good Creator
Even cares for such as we."
"THE DAUPHIN IN THE TEMPLE PRISON.
"TO MARIE ANTOINETTE.
" ' O thou, my mother ! dead so long ago,
Who never to my childish joy or woe
Didst say, "That's trifling ;" mother, hear me now ;
Allay the throbbing of my burning brow,
And help me in the problem of my life,
That I may conquer in this vital strife —
