When Sparrows Build And The

And Bitter Waxed The Fray; Brother With Brother Spake No Word When They Met In The Way.

And Old Affront Will Stir The Heart Through Years Of Rankling Pain.

There's No Dew Left On The Daisies And Clover; There's No Rain Left In Heaven.

Quoth The Ocean, "dawn! O Fairest, Clearest, Touch Me With Thy Golden Fingers Bland; For I Have No Smile Till Thou Appearest For The Lovely Land.

Crowds Of Bees Are Giddy With Clover Crowds Of Grasshoppers Skip At Our Feet, Crowds Of Larks At Their Matins Hang Over, Thanking The Lord For A Life So Sweet.