Victory comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it.
How sweet it would have tasted, Just a drop!
Was God so economical?
His table 's spread too high for us Unless we dine on tip-toe.
Crumbs fit such little mouths, Cherries suit robins;The eagle's golden breakfast Strangles them.
God keeps his oath to sparrows, Who of little love Know how to starve!
