Sparrows Self-Domesticated In Trinity College, Cambridge

None ever shared the social feast, Or as an inmate or a guest, Beneath the celebrated dome Where once Sir Isaac had his home, Who saw not (and with some delight Perhaps he view’d the novel sight) How numerous, at the tables there, The sparrows beg their daily fare. For there, in every nook and cell Where such a family may dwell, Sure as the vernal season comes Their nest they weave in hope of crumbs, Which kindly given, may serve with food Convenient their unfeather’d brood; And oft as with its summons clear The warning bell salutes their ear, Sagacious listeners to the sound, They flock from all the fields around; To reach the hospitable hall, None more attentive to the call. Arrived, the pensionary band, Hopping and chirping, close at hand, Solicit what they soon receive: The sprinkled, plenteous donative. Thus is a multitude, though large, Supported at a trivial charge; A single doit would overpay The expenditure of every day, And who can grudge so small a grace To suppliants, natives of the place.