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Archibald Lampman - The Song Sparrow
Work rating: Low

Fair little scout, that when the iron year
   Changes, and the first fleecy clouds deploy,
   Comest with such a sudden burst of joy,
 Lifting on winter`s doomed and broken rear
 That song of silvery triumph blithe and clear;
   Not yet quite conscious of the happy glow,
   We hungered for some surer touch, and lo!
 One morning we awake, and thou art here.
 And thousands of frail-stemmed hepaticas,
   With their crisp leaves and pure and perfect hues,
   Light sleepers, ready for the golden news,
 Spring at thy note beside the forest ways--
   Next to thy song, the first to deck the hour--
   The classic lyrist and the classic flower.
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