Littell's Living Age/Volume 130/Issue 1679/The Song-Bird

by A. M. Jeaffreson

THE SONG-BIRD.

"L'oiseau posé sur des rameaux tout frêles chante
pourtant sachant qu'il a des ailes."

The song-bird singeth on the bough,
His song is never sad;
The bough is frail, the wind is high,
And yet his song is glad, —
He knoweth he hath wings.

That carol riseth higher yet
When morning turneth night to day,
And still some notes when passing clouds
Obscure the heavenly ray, —
He knoweth he hath wings.

O Thou whose voice the spirits hear,
Speak to our souls in doubt or fear,
And tell us we have wings;

Bid every dark misgiving cease,
And all be confidence and peace, —
Oh tell us we have wings.

A. M. Jeaffreson.

Golden Hours.