A little bird, with feathers brown,
Beside my window flutters down,
A moment chirps its little strain,
Then taps upon my window-pane,
And chirps again, and hops along,
To call my notice to its song;
But I work on, nor care its lay,
Till, in neglect, it flies away.

So birds of peace and hope and love
Come fluttering earthward from above,
To settle on life’s windowsills,
And ease our burden of earthly ills;
But we, in traffic’s rush and din
Too deep engaged to let them in,
With deadened heart and sense trudge on,
Nor know our loss till they are gone.