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[Em]Who[D] will love a little sparrow,
Who's travelled [C]far, and cries for [D]rest?
"Not [Em]I," said the [A]oak tree.
"I [D]won't share my branches with [A]no sparrow's nest;
And my [D]blanket of leaves won't w[A]arm her cold b[Em]reast."
Who will love a little sparrow,
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I," said the swan.
"The entire idea is utterly absurd;
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard."
And who will take pity in his heart,
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I," said the golden wheat.
"I would if I could but I cannot I know;
For I need all my grain to prosper and grow."
Who will love a little sparrow,
Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth.
"For all I've created returns unto me;
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be."
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