Passing fodd’rers tug away. Hogs with grumbling, deaf’ning noise Bother round the server boys; And, far and near, the motley group Anxious claim their suppering-up. From the rest, a blest release, Gabbling home, the quarrelling geese Seek their warm straw-litter’d shed, And, waddling, prate away to bed. ’Nighted by unseen delay, Poking hens, that lose their way, On the hovel’s rafters rise, Slumbering there, the fox’s prize. Now the cat has ta’en her seat, With her tail curl’d round her feet; Patiently she sits to watch Sparrows fighting on the thatch. Now Doll brings th’ expected pails. And dogs begin to wag their tails; With strokes and pats they’re welcom’d in And they with looking wants begin: Slove in the milk-pail brimming o’er, She pops their dish behind the door. Prone to mischief boys are met, ’Neath the eaves the ladder’s set, Sly they climb in softest tread, To catch the sparrow on his bed, Massacred, O cruel pride! Dash against the ladder’s side. Curst barbarians! pass me by: Come not, Turks, my cottage nigh; Sure my sparrow’s are my own, Let ye then my birds alone. Come poor birds! from foes severe Fearless come, you’re welcome here; My heart yearns at fate like yours, A sparrow’s life’s as sweet as ours. 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 might then 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.