The trees were all a twitter. The morning's chorus struck. 
They're gathered in the mighty oak to wish the Sparrow luck. 

A Golden Eagle sat aloft and watched the throng below, 
Then spread its mammoth wings and screamed. 
It was nearly time to go. 

At last the boughs grew silent. The Sparrow took its place 
Upon the utmost branches from where the Eagle set the race. 

The Eagle had set a wager to fly closest to the sun. 
The Sparrow had accepted. Now the journey had begun. 

Higher and higher the Eagle flew, the Sparrow by its side. 
'Here we come oh glorious sun!' the little Sparrow cried. 

Closer and closer to the sun. Its heat upon their backs. 
They squint their eyes and flexed their wings and 
rode the nimbus tracks. 

The Eagle started panting. Its head began to sag. 
The Sparrow sang encouragement lest the pace should start to flag. 

The Sparrow piped from shade of wing, 
'Come on we're almost there!' 
'I've had enough, I can't go on!' The Eagle did declare. 

Then all at once the Sparrow soared towards the ball of flame. 
It whirled above the Eagle's head and chirped, 'I've won the game.' 

The two of them then dipped their beaks and headed back to earth. 
The Eagle muttered, 'I've been conned!' 
The Sparrow sang with mirth.