One night I heard a small, weak voice, Born into a silent, sleeping world: Was it a new-born baby, or A new-born lamb, a minute old? But when I saw the sky was one Big loaded orchard of bright lights, I almost cried like that young child, For Earth, and all her little mites. The silence of those mighty heavens, That infant's cry, so weak in power, Made me half wish that Day had brought Her sparrow with his common flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSFORMATION by CARL SANDBURG THE FOREFATHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE NATIVE LAND by FRANCISCO DE ALDANA YOUR TREASURE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |