Gratitude

Sleep little one,
Thy bed is so narrow,
Be not disturbed. . .
I am only a sparrow
You saved when the snow
Was deep on the ground;
And now. . . you are sleeping
Beneath a white mound.
Rest little one
Thy bed is so narrow
You cannot hear me,
A poor draggled sparrow,
But you I remember,
Thou giver of bread,
You stood in the doorway
And saw I was fed.

MURIEL JEFFRIES HURD.