For small as well as great.

And He provideth food

The earth is God’s estate,

Don’t shoot the little birds!

All thro’ the summer days,

That sing on bush and tree,

1. Don’t kill the little birds,

2. Don’t kill the little birds,

Their plumage wings the air,

Their trill at early morn

Makes music ev’rywhere. …

Think of the good they do

In all the orchards ’round;

No hurtful insects thrive

Where robins most abound.