Who will love a little sparrow? Whos traveled far and cries for rest? Not I, said the oak tree I wont share my branches with no sparrows nest And my blanket of leaves wont warm her cold breast Who will love a little sparrow And who will speak a kindly word? Not I, said the swan The entire idea is utterly absurd Id be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard And who will take pity in his heart? And who will feed a starving sparrow? Not I, said the golden wheat I would if I could but I cannot I know I need all my grain to prosper and grow Who will love a little sparrow? Will no one write her eulogy? I will, said the earth For all Ive created returns unto me From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be
sparrow, swan, ye, said, dust