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...BALLAD OF THE GIBBET by FRANCOIS VILLON A,B,C by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER MOONRISE IN THE ROCKIES by ELLA (RHOADS) HIGGINSON RICH AND POOR; OR, SAINT AND SINNER by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK THE RECONCILEMENT by JOHN SHEFFIELD |