Victory Comes Late

690

Victory comes late-
And is held low to freezing lips-
Too rapt with frost
To take it-
How sweet it would have tasted-
Just a Drop-
Was God so economical?
His Table's spread too high for Us-
Unless We dine on tiptoe-
Crumbs-fit such little mouths-
Cherries-suit Robbins-
The Eagle's Golden Breakfast strangles-Them-
God keep His Oath to Sparrows-
Who of little Love-know how to starve-