The Little Cock-Sparrow

1

A little cock-sparrow sat on a high tree,
A little cock-sparrow sat on a high tree,
A little cock-sparrow sat on a high tree,
And he chirrupped, he chirrupped so merrily.
He chirrupped, he chirrupped, he chirrupped, he chirrupped,
He chirrupped, he chirrupped, he chirrupped, he chirrupped,
A little cock-sparrow sat on a high tree,
And he chirrupped, he chirrupped so merrily.

2

A naughty little boy with a bow and arrow,
Determined to shoot this little cock-sparrow;

3

For this little cock-sparrow would make a nice stew,
And his giblets would make a nice little pie too.

4

"Oh, no," says cock-sparrow, "I won't make a stew,"
And he fluttered his wings, and away he flew.

Walter Crane

Walter Crane was an English artist and book illustrator, considered to be one of the most prolific and influential children's book creators of his generation. Born on August 15, 1845, and passing away on March 14, 1915, he was part of the Arts and Crafts movement and is known for his innovative contributions to children's literature. His work often combined art and poetry, aiming to educate and delight young readers.

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English

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Nursery Rhyme. DLIX. Natural History.

    A little cock sparrow sat on a green tree, ( tris)
    And he cherruped, he cherruped so merry was he; ( tris)
    A little cock-sparrow sat on a green tree,
    And he cherruped, he cherruped so merry was he.

    A naughty boy came with his wee bow and arrow, ( tris)
    Determined to shoot this little cock sparrow, ( tris)
    A naughty, & c.
    Determined, & c.

    This little cock sparrow shall make me a stew, ( tris)
    And his giblets shall make me a little pie too, ( tris)
    Oh, no! said ye sparrow I won't make a stew,
    So he flapped his wings and away he flew!

Unknown

The Song-Sparrow

Glimmers gray the leafless thicket
Close beside my garden gate,
Where, so light, from post to picket
Hops the sparrow, blithe, sedate;
Who, with meekly folded wing,
Comes to sun himself and sing.

It was there, perhaps, last year,
That his little house he built;
For he seems to perk and peer,
And to twitter, too, and tilt
The bare branches in between,
With a fond, familiar mien.

Once, I know, there was a nest,
Held there by the sideward thrust
Of those twigs that touch his breast;
Though 'tis gone now. Some rude gust
Caught it, over-full of snow, -
Bent the bush, - and stole it so.

Thus our highest holds are lost,
In the ruthless winter's wind,
When, with swift-dismantling frost,
The green woods we dwelt in, thinn'd

George Parsons Lathrop

The Song-Sparrow.

Glimmers gray the leafless thicket
    Close beside my garden gate,
Where, so light, from post to picket
    Hops the sparrow, blithe, sedate;
    Who, with meekly folded wing,
    Comes to sun himself and sing.

It was there, perhaps, last year,
    That his little house he built;
For he seems to perk and peer,
    And to twitter, too, and tilt
    The bare branches in between,
    With a fond, familiar mien.

Once, I know, there was a nest,
    Held there by the sideward thrust
Of those twigs that touch his breast;
    Though 'tis gone now. Some rude gust
    Caught it, over-full of snow, -
    Bent the bush, - and robbed it so

Thus our highest holds are lost,
    By the ruthless winter's wind,
When, with swift-dismantling...

George Parsons Lathrop

The Sparrow

Let others from the feathered brood
Which through the garden seeks its food
Pick out for a commending word
Each one his own peculiar bird;
Hail the plump tit, or fitly sing
The finch's crest and flashing wing;
Exalt the rook's black satin dress-coat,
The thrush's speckled fancy waistcoat;
Or praise the robin, meek, but sly,
For breast and tail and friendly eye -
These have their place within my heart;
The sparrow owns the larger part,
And, for no virtues, rules in it,
My reckless cheerful favourite!
Friend sparrow, let the world contemn
Your ways and make a mock of them,
And dub you, if it has a mind,
Low, quarrelsome, and unrefined;
And let it, if it will, pursue
With harsh abuse the troops of you
Who through the orchard and the field

R. C. Lehmann

The Cat And The Two Sparrows.

^[1]

To Monseigneur The Duke De Bourgogne.

Contemporary with a sparrow tame
There lived a cat; from tenderest age,
Of both, the basket and the cage
Had household gods the same.
The bird's sharp beak full oft provoked the cat,
Who play'd in turn, but with a gentle pat,
His wee friend sparing with a merry laugh,
Not punishing his faults by half.
In short, he scrupled much the harm,
Should he with points his ferule arm.
The sparrow, less discreet than he,
With dagger beak made very free.
Sir Cat, a person wise and staid,
Excused the warmth with which he play'd:
For 'tis full half of friendship's art
To take no joke in serious part.
Familiar since they saw the light,
Mere habit kept their friendship good;
Fair play had nev...

Jean de La Fontaine

Cock Robin And Jenny Wren

1.
'Twas on a merry time,
When Jenny Wren was young,
So neatly as she danced,
And so sweetly as she sung,
Robin Redbreast lost his heart,
He was a gallant bird,
He doffed his cap to Jenny Wren,
Requesting to be heard.

2.
"My dearest Jenny Wren,
If you will but be mine,
You shall dine on cherry pie,
And drink nice currant wine;
I'll dress you like a gold-finch,
Or like a peacock gay,
So if you'll have me, Jenny, dear,
Let us appoint the day."

3.
Jenny blushed behind her fan
And thus declared her mind--
"So let it be to-morrow, Rob,
I'll take your offer kind;
Cherry pie is very good,
And so is currant wine,
But I will wear my plain brown gown,
And never dress too fine."

4.
Robin Redbre...

Walter Crane