A little boy with crumbs of bread Many a hungry sparrow fed.
It was a child of little sense Who this kind bounty did dispense; For suddenly 'twas from them torn, And all the birds were left forlorn In a hard time of frost and snow, Not knowing where for food to go.
He would no longer give them bread, Because he had observed, he said, A great black bird, a rook by name, That sometimes to the window came And took away a small bird's share.
So foolish Henry did not care What became of the great rook That from the little sparrows took, Now and then, as 'twere by stealth, A part of their abundant wealth;
Nor ever more would feed his sparrows. _Thus ignorance a kind heart narrows._ I wish I had been there, I would Have told the child, rooks live by food In the same way the sparrows do.
I also would have told him too Birds act by instinct, and ne'er can Attain the rectitude of man.
Nay, that even when distress Does on poor human nature press, We need not be too strict in seeing The failings of a fellow-being.
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