They say of St John’s College, 

In their gardens, high and low, 

That sparrows there do forage, 

For whatever fruits there grow. 

***

Woe did reign when winter came! 

With flowers dead and bushes bare, 

The sparrows were of thinnest frame, 

Until the gardener found them there. 

***

“Come, young birds!”, the gardener cried, 

“Here’s nuts an’ worms for eatin’!”

T’sparrows, overjoyed, now fly, 

To dine, while happ’ly tweeting. 

***

But the eagles, perched nearby, 

Are not quite as contented. 

How could he limit kindness so? 

His act they quite resented. 

***

“What of us, you beastly man?!

You limit your affections! 

Can’t you see that we remain, 

‘Neath hunger’s harsh subjection?”

***

This brute must be corrected! 

And so plans were soon devised,

To teach him for’s neglecting, 

They pecked out the gardener’s eyes. 

*** 

As I’m sure you will agree, dear reader — of sound mind that you are —the eagles took a most reasonable course. That’ll teach the thoughtless tyrants to feed the sparrows.