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.