Victory comes late –
And is held low to freezing
lips –
Too rapt with frost
To take it –
How sweet it would have tasted –
Just a Drop –
Was God so economical?
His  Table′s spread too high
for Us –
Unless We dine on Tiptoe –
Crumbs – fit such little mouths –
Cherries – suit Robins –
The Eagle′s Golden Breakfast
strangles – Them –
God keep his Oath to Sparrows –
Who of little Love – know
how to starve –