 | The forest minstrel |  |
ON HEARING A BLUEBIRD SING.
Thou Giver of all perfect gifts,
I thank Thee for the singing bird,
Since by her voice devotion's strings
Within my heart are stirred.
I thank Thee for the singing bird,
Since by her voice devotion's strings
Within my heart are stirred.
Oh, what a loving joyous hymn
She singeth from the leafless tree,
She hath no sorrow, feels no care,
But gladly trusts in Thee.
She singeth from the leafless tree,
She hath no sorrow, feels no care,
But gladly trusts in Thee.
Her carol melts the heavy ice
Of unbelief that chained my soul,
As sunbeams break the icy bands
Of Winter's long control.
Of unbelief that chained my soul,
As sunbeams break the icy bands
Of Winter's long control.
I thank Thee for the singing bird,
Thine angel to this cold world given,
With azure wing and song of love,
To lift the heart to heaven.
Thine angel to this cold world given,
With azure wing and song of love,
To lift the heart to heaven.
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Oh, were I like that trusting bird,
That sings beneath the sunny sky,
And meekly folds her wings, and waits
Till night and storm pass by;
That sings beneath the sunny sky,
And meekly folds her wings, and waits
Till night and storm pass by;
That joys to build her little nest,
And dwell in woodlands wild and free,
And warble out her little soul
In melody to Thee.
And dwell in woodlands wild and free,
And warble out her little soul
In melody to Thee.
Thou Giver of all perfect gifts,
I thank Thee for the singing bird,
Since by her voice the holy springs
Of love and faith are stirred.
I thank Thee for the singing bird,
Since by her voice the holy springs
Of love and faith are stirred.
| The forest minstrel | |