When in the wintry woods you hear the note br Of some small robin piping his delight br Because the noonday sunshine warm and bright br Melts the sweet music from his tiny throat, br Say not with scorn, 'Why doth the silly bird br Twitter and chirrup, when the jubilant cries br With which the Lark scales the blue vaulted skies br Beyond his golden corn-field scarce are heard?' br The God who bade His creatures all rejoice br Amid the thunderous music of the spheres, br Gives heed to every soul that speaks—and hears, br Well pleas'd, the little Redbreast's thankful voice. br Therefore sing I—and these my feeble lays br Join to the universal hymn of Praise.