None ever shared the social feast, <br />Or as an inmate or a guest, <br />Beneath the celebrated dome <br />Where once Sir Isaac had his home, <br />Who saw not (and with some delight <br />Perhaps he view’d the novel sight) <br />How numerous, at the tables there, <br />The sparrows beg their daily fare. <br />For there, in every nook and cell <br />Where such a family may dwell, <br />Sure as the vernal season comes <br />Their nest they weave in hope of crumbs, <br />Which kindly given, may serve with food <br />Convenient their unfeather’d brood; <br />And oft as with its summons clear <br />The warning bell salutes their ear, <br />Sagacious listeners to the sound, <br />They flock from all the fields around; <br />To reach the hospitable hall, <br />None more attentive to the call. <br />Arrived, the pensionary band, <br />Hopping and chirping, close at hand, <br />Solicit what they soon receive: <br />The sprinkled, plenteous donative. <br />Thus is a multitude, though large, <br />Supported at a trivial charge; <br />A single doit would overpay <br />The expenditure of every day, <br />And who can grudge so small a grace <br />To suppliants, natives of the place.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sparrows-self-domesticated-in-trinity-college-cambridge/
