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sparrows of London town, Tailless, perky, ragged, and brown, With a halo of smoke around you thrown.

Up on the housetops, over the slates, Hopping about with the quaintest of gaits, Each one abusing, ill-using his mates.

Golden canaries in vain peep through Golden bars. Sage birds in blue, Chained to their perches, envy you.

Gay little gamins along the street, Dodging across under horses' feet, A copper for drink or sore back to beat.

Children clad in velvet and lace Envy you, pressing each eager face To their windows, as scattering the mud you race.