HEDGE SPARROW
            John Clare
                p. 1835
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The tame hedge sparrow in its russet dress
Is half a robin for its gentle ways
And the bird loving dame can do no less
Then throw it out a crumble on cold days
In early march it into gardens strays
And in the snug clipt box tree green and round
It makes a nest of moss and hair and lays
When een the snow is lurking on the ground
Its eggs in number five of greenish blue
Bright beautiful and glossy shining shells
Much like the firetails but of brighter hue
Yet in her garden home much danger dwells
Where skulking cat with mischief in its breast
Catches their young before they leave the nest


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