My Window Birds
My window birds, I love to strew
With punctual hands the crumb for you,
Flying for comfort day by day
From frozen woodland and highway,
And bringing Christmas bills now due!
Fair creditors of every hue
Crimson and yellow, brown and blue,
Whate’er your thoughts, your coats are gay,
My window birds.
Your claims are neither small nor few,
Dated, when May-flowers drank the dew,
And on sweet pipes ye used to play,
Scattering full many a golden lay;
Now ye for wages mutely sue,
My window birds.
Rev. Richard Wilton, M.A.