IN the June boughs

Lies a dear little nest; 

Where five baby sparrows

Find shelter and rest.

The mother sings songs, 

And the father brings food,

And both teach the baby-birds 

How to be good.

The winds rock the cradle,

The leaves warm the bed, 

And the little birds never

Have wanted for bread.

For God who is over,

And cares for us all, 

Keeps guard o'er the sparrows

That they should not fall.