FREDERICK AUGUSTUS DIXON
AT the close of the day, when the year was a-dying,From the chilly north to the southern sun,High in the sky came the wild swans flying—(Great white wings had each glorious one),—And a snowy feather fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town.Poverty passed, and wealth came speeding;Business and pleasure turned their wheels;But the feather lay, as men trod, unheeding,Stamped and crushed by a thousand heels.And the message it brought remained untold,Save to a child with a head of gold.Up in a garret, all tearfully fretting,She peeped in her rags through the broken pane;And she clapped her hands with delight, forgettingHunger and misery, cold, and the rain,As the strange white thing caught her wondering eye,Dropped down from nowhere, out of the sky.And she cried as it fell, with the faith of seven,(Fanciful, credulous, innocent elf):"Look, mother, look! Here's a letter from Heaven!God didn't forget us—He's written Himself!"Was it useless, that feather that so fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town?
AT the close of the day, when the year was a-dying,From the chilly north to the southern sun,High in the sky came the wild swans flying—(Great white wings had each glorious one),—And a snowy feather fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town.Poverty passed, and wealth came speeding;Business and pleasure turned their wheels;But the feather lay, as men trod, unheeding,Stamped and crushed by a thousand heels.And the message it brought remained untold,Save to a child with a head of gold.Up in a garret, all tearfully fretting,She peeped in her rags through the broken pane;And she clapped her hands with delight, forgettingHunger and misery, cold, and the rain,As the strange white thing caught her wondering eye,Dropped down from nowhere, out of the sky.And she cried as it fell, with the faith of seven,(Fanciful, credulous, innocent elf):"Look, mother, look! Here's a letter from Heaven!God didn't forget us—He's written Himself!"Was it useless, that feather that so fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town?
AT the close of the day, when the year was a-dying,From the chilly north to the southern sun,High in the sky came the wild swans flying—(Great white wings had each glorious one),—And a snowy feather fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town.
AT the close of the day, when the year was a-dying,
From the chilly north to the southern sun,
High in the sky came the wild swans flying—
(Great white wings had each glorious one),—
And a snowy feather fluttered down
On the muddy street of a dirty town.
Poverty passed, and wealth came speeding;Business and pleasure turned their wheels;But the feather lay, as men trod, unheeding,Stamped and crushed by a thousand heels.And the message it brought remained untold,Save to a child with a head of gold.
Poverty passed, and wealth came speeding;
Business and pleasure turned their wheels;
But the feather lay, as men trod, unheeding,
Stamped and crushed by a thousand heels.
And the message it brought remained untold,
Save to a child with a head of gold.
Up in a garret, all tearfully fretting,She peeped in her rags through the broken pane;And she clapped her hands with delight, forgettingHunger and misery, cold, and the rain,As the strange white thing caught her wondering eye,Dropped down from nowhere, out of the sky.
Up in a garret, all tearfully fretting,
She peeped in her rags through the broken pane;
And she clapped her hands with delight, forgetting
Hunger and misery, cold, and the rain,
As the strange white thing caught her wondering eye,
Dropped down from nowhere, out of the sky.
And she cried as it fell, with the faith of seven,(Fanciful, credulous, innocent elf):"Look, mother, look! Here's a letter from Heaven!God didn't forget us—He's written Himself!"
And she cried as it fell, with the faith of seven,
(Fanciful, credulous, innocent elf):
"Look, mother, look! Here's a letter from Heaven!
God didn't forget us—He's written Himself!"
Was it useless, that feather that so fluttered downOn the muddy street of a dirty town?
Was it useless, that feather that so fluttered down
On the muddy street of a dirty town?