On a chest there was a sparrow,
And in its beak there was a straw.
It was going to build a nest,
In an old rotten chest.

In a day or two would come its mate,
But I could hardly wait.
I held the young sparrows in my palm,
And that would make them warm.

Their mother would look after them with care,
And her food with them it would share.
Till they were big enough to fly,
And out they go with a joy filled cry.

God’s care and love is such,
That he looks after them so much.