Classic Poem

I know a little bird that sings
Its anthem from a slender tower,
Then from a cedar bough it swings
And seems as fragile as a flower.

I long to hold it in my hand
And tell it of my passing days;
I wish to make it understand
How much I love its little ways.

But ah! the bird is wondrous wise;
It sits superior in its place
Till something calls it, and it flies
And flings its shadow in my face.

Up! up it goes! an atom fine
That knows the secrets of the Blue,
And meets with no restraining line
Among the clouds it passes through.

What thing is this that God has made
And set between the earth and sky,
So blithe and small, yet unafraid
Among His thunderbolts to fly?

I know a little bird that sings
Its anthem from a slender tower,
Then from a cedar bough it swings
And seems as fragile as a flower.

I long to hold it in my hand
And tell it of my passing days;
I wish to make it understand
How much I love its little ways.

But ah! the bird is wondrous wise;
It sits superior in its place
Till something calls it, and it flies
And flings its shadow in my face.

Up! up it goes! an atom fine
That knows the secrets of the Blue,
And meets with no restraining line
Among the clouds it passes through.

What thing is this that God has made
And set between the earth and sky,
So blithe and small, yet unafraid
Among His thunderbolts to fly?