The Tiger On Parade

The Sparrow and the Robin on a toot Drunk on honey-dew and violet’s breath Came knocking at the brazen bars of Death. And Death, no other than a tiger caged, In a street parade that had no ending, Roared at them and clawed at them and raged-- Whose chirping was the height of their offending. His paws too big--their fluttering bodies small Escaped unscathed above the City Hall.

They learned new dances, scattering birdy laughter, And filled again their throats with honey-dew. A Maltese kitten killed them, two days after. But they had had their fill. It was enough:-- Had quarreled, made up, on many a lilac swayed, Darted through sunny thunder-clouds and rainbows, High above that tiger on parade.