Poems (Ripley)/To a Sparrow
TO A SPARROW
December! and soft twilight closing round
A wintry world, as heavy as a cloud!
The snow is blown like powder 'long the ground—
And the icy limbs of trees are groaning loud.—
A wintry world, as heavy as a cloud!
The snow is blown like powder 'long the ground—
And the icy limbs of trees are groaning loud.—
A fierce and biting wind holds lordly sway,
And stings the face and hands of passers-by—
And all the clouds are a heavy, leaden-gray;
And the sun has set all hidden from the eye.
And stings the face and hands of passers-by—
And all the clouds are a heavy, leaden-gray;
And the sun has set all hidden from the eye.
A little sparrow sits upon a ledge
High up above a window, 'neath the eaves:
A tiny ball upon the very edge
And shivers, as the wind the snow upheaves.
High up above a window, 'neath the eaves:
A tiny ball upon the very edge
And shivers, as the wind the snow upheaves.
The over-hanging roof piled high with snow
Prevents the wind from blowing him away;
And icicles are hanging close below
But fail to keep the icy breath at bay.
Prevents the wind from blowing him away;
And icicles are hanging close below
But fail to keep the icy breath at bay.
Alone he sits: a small, forsaken mite—
With feathers all erect, and eyes closed fast,
And purple claws all huddled out of sight.—
Anon, he starts at a stinging, icy blast,—
With feathers all erect, and eyes closed fast,
And purple claws all huddled out of sight.—
Anon, he starts at a stinging, icy blast,—
Then settles down more snugly than before.
He does not place his head beneath his wing,
Because he fears the icy wind full sore
And keeps them closely folded up, wee thing!
He does not place his head beneath his wing,
Because he fears the icy wind full sore
And keeps them closely folded up, wee thing!
Where is your mate, you tiny ball of brown.
That sees me not, the while I ponder thee?
Didst lose her as the night came settling down?
Or didst thou leave her in some hollow tree—
That sees me not, the while I ponder thee?
Didst lose her as the night came settling down?
Or didst thou leave her in some hollow tree—
More snug and warm, than this, thy chilly bed?
Or is she lying cold within the snow,
While it goes drifting, drifting o'er her head,
As softly as the snowy lilies blow?
Or is she lying cold within the snow,
While it goes drifting, drifting o'er her head,
As softly as the snowy lilies blow?
What keeps thee warm? Hast fire within thy heart,
That burns so warmly, that it defies the cold?
Ah thou dost stir within thy sleep, and start.
Then drowse again, within thy chilly fold.
That burns so warmly, that it defies the cold?
Ah thou dost stir within thy sleep, and start.
Then drowse again, within thy chilly fold.