Sonnet. "When in the wintry woods you hear the note"

When in the wintry woods you hear the note
  Of some small robin piping his delight
  Because the noonday sunshine warm and bright
  Melts the sweet music from his tiny throat,
  Say not with scorn, "Why doth the silly bird
  Twitter and chirrup, when the jubilant cries
  With which the Lark scales the blue vaulted skies
  Beyond his golden corn-field scarce are heard?"
  The God who bade His creatures all rejoice
  Amid the thunderous music of the spheres,
  Gives heed to every soul that speaks—and hears,
  Well pleas'd, the little Redbreast's thankful voice.
  Therefore sing I—and these my feeble lays
  Join to the universal hymn of Praise.