A little bird with plumage brown, Beside my window flutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Then taps upon my window-pane. And chirps again, and hops along, To call my notice to its song; But I work on, nor heed its lay, Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace and hope and love Come fluttering earthward from above, To settle on life's window-sills, And ease our load of earthly ills; But we, in traffic's rush and din Too deep engaged to let them in, With deadened heart and sense plod on, Nor know our loss till they are gone.

A little bird with plumage brown, Beside my window flutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Then taps upon my window-pane. And chirps again, and hops along, To call my notice to its song; But I work on, nor heed its lay, Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace and hope and love Come fluttering earthward from above, To settle on life's window-sills, And ease our load of earthly ills; But we, in traffic's rush and din Too deep engaged to let them in, With deadened heart and sense plod on, Nor know our loss till they are gone.

Source

The Optimist’s Good Morning (1911)
Complete signed selection 211; printed byline: Paul Laurence Dunbar; Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1911; printed copyright 1907
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attributed · historical anthology
Preserved as printed; independently unverified.

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Undated
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Rights & edition

Public domain (United States)
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