The Little Grave

One winter's Eve I went a walking out beyond the city gate For to fetch a fresh young pheasant for my darling's dinner plate It was snowing oh so quietly and the woods were wide and soft Just the sound of snowflakes falling and the footsteps as I walked There I saw a fresh young pheasant and I shot and killed him there And I heard a distant church bell as the bird fell from the air As I held his dying body the strangest thought came over me God had made this little body that I had killed so faultlessly All the woods were dark and shadowed with the light the cold stars gave I sent a prayer to God in heaven and covered up the little grave And covered up the little grave --- The Little Grave - George Hamilton IV