Let skies be sunny or clouds hang low
Little brown sparrow away you go
Ever in search of food or fun
Come summer or winter rain or sun

Boughs of lilac whereon to rest
April spreads when you build your nest,
Autumn feeds you with golden corn
And berries ripe on the wayside thorn

Winter comes with its frost and snow
Waters may freeze and winds may blow
Yet little you care and nought you rue,
For every hand has a crumb for you

Through sunshine tomorrow and storm today
You go like a friar of orders gray,
Finding wherever your fancy leads,
A table spread for the wanderer's needs