 | Wood-notes and Church-bells |  |
40
THE SPARROW:
ITS TEACHINGS IN PROVIDENCE AND GRACE.
Stay, little bird, that underneath my eaves
Hast nestled, or amidst my jasmine leaves,
Ere yet thou seek the shaking harvest sheaves
Listen and linger;
Let others with indifference or a frown
Thy homely form regard, and feathers brown,
I know there points to thee in field or town
The Lord's own finger.
Hast nestled, or amidst my jasmine leaves,
Ere yet thou seek the shaking harvest sheaves
Listen and linger;
Let others with indifference or a frown
Thy homely form regard, and feathers brown,
I know there points to thee in field or town
The Lord's own finger.
As once on earth, so still from heaven above,
His holy finger points to thee in love,
A common sparrow, not a burnisht dove,
And bids us gather
Lessons of comfort from thy history small,
Since God observes thee, feeds thee, telleth all
Thy flittings, neither shalt thou droop or fall
Without our Father.
His holy finger points to thee in love,
A common sparrow, not a burnisht dove,
And bids us gather
Lessons of comfort from thy history small,
Since God observes thee, feeds thee, telleth all
Thy flittings, neither shalt thou droop or fall
Without our Father.
44
Our Father—since we boast that higher birth—
What though we live unnoticed here on earth,
And all concealed our labour and our worth
In circle narrow,
Our names are known beyond the farthest star,
God notes whate'er we suffer, do, and are,
Men—and immortal—we outvalue far
Full many a sparrow.
What though we live unnoticed here on earth,
And all concealed our labour and our worth
In circle narrow,
Our names are known beyond the farthest star,
God notes whate'er we suffer, do, and are,
Men—and immortal—we outvalue far
Full many a sparrow.
Stay, little bird, nor from my garden fly,
For lo! upon thy feathers I espy
A gleam more bright than silver to the eye
Or golden yellow:
In such unearthly beauty was equipt
That other, when from open palms it slipt
Of Israel's priest—in purple life drops dipt
Of its dead fellow.
For lo! upon thy feathers I espy
A gleam more bright than silver to the eye
Or golden yellow:
In such unearthly beauty was equipt
That other, when from open palms it slipt
Of Israel's priest—in purple life drops dipt
Of its dead fellow.
45
Thus with the eye of faith I seem to see
Marks of the mystery which makes us free—
A shadow of the Risen One in thee
Before me flitting:
As with a finger silently is shown
His fairest Form who suffered to atone—
By simple sparrow on the wing, or lone
On house-top sitting.
Marks of the mystery which makes us free—
A shadow of the Risen One in thee
Before me flitting:
As with a finger silently is shown
His fairest Form who suffered to atone—
By simple sparrow on the wing, or lone
On house-top sitting.
Then linger round my dwelling, where no harm
Shall happen to thee and no fear alarm,
But thou shalt live—safe by a double charm—
In peace unbroken:
Stay always, little bird, nor fly aloof,
But hop and chirp in shadow of my roof,
And be to me of Providence the proof
Of Grace the token!
Shall happen to thee and no fear alarm,
But thou shalt live—safe by a double charm—
In peace unbroken:
Stay always, little bird, nor fly aloof,
But hop and chirp in shadow of my roof,
And be to me of Providence the proof
Of Grace the token!
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