Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 105

If the wren can cling To a spray a-swing In the mad May wind, and sing and sing As if she'd burst for joy--

Why cannot I Contented lie In his quiet arms, beneath his sky, Unmoved by life's annoy.

--Robert Haven Schauffler.

Be like the bird that, halting in her flight Awhile on boughs too slight, Feels them give way beneath her and yet sings-- Knowing that she hath wings.

--Victor Hugo.

Let not your heart be troubled, Jesus said; Let not your heart be troubled or afraid.

My peace into your hands I freely give; Trust in your G.o.d, and in his precepts live.

Thunder, lightning, fire and rain, Poverty, sorrow, loss and gain, Death and heaven, and earth and h.e.l.l, For us must work together well.

With patient course thy path of duty run G.o.d nothing does, or suffers to be done, But thou wouldst do the same if thou couldst see The end of all events as well as he.

I welcome all thy sovereign will, For all that will is love; And when I know not what thou dost, I wait the light above.

G.o.d'S CARE

PROVIDENCE, G.o.d'S KNOWLEDGE AND BENEFICENCE

CONSIDER THE RAVENS

Lord, according to thy words, I have considered thy birds; And I find their life good, And better, the better understood; Sowing neither corn nor wheat They have all that they can eat; Reaping no more than they sow They have more than they could stow; Having neither barn nor store, Hungry again they eat more.

Considering, I see too that they Have a busy life, but plenty of play; In the earth they dig their bills deep, And work well, though they do not heap; Then to play in the way they are not loth, And their nests between are better than both.

But this is when there blow no storms, When berries are plenty in winter, and worms, When feathers are rife, with oil enough To keep the cold out and send the rain off; If there come, indeed, a long, hard frost, Then it looks as though thy birds were lost.

But I consider further and find A hungry bird has a free mind; He is hungry to-day, but not to-morrow, Steals no comfort, no grief doth borrow; This moment is his, thy will hath said it, The next is nothing till Thou hast made it.

The bird has pain, but has no fear-- Which is the worst of any gear; When cold and hunger and harm betide him, He does not take them and stuff inside him; Content with the day's ill he has got, He waits just, nor haggles with his lot; Neither jumbles G.o.d's will With driblets from his own still.

But next I see, in my endeavor, The birds here do not live forever; That cold or hunger, sickness or age, Finishes their earthly stage; The rooks drop in cold nights, Leaving all their wrongs and rights; Birds lie here and birds lie there With their feathers all astare; And in thine own sermon, thou That the sparrow falls dost allow.

It shall not cause me any alarm, For neither so comes the bird to harm, Seeing our Father, thou hast said, Is by the sparrow's dying bed; Therefore it is a blessed place, And a sharer in high grace.

It cometh therefore to this, Lord: I have considered thy word; And henceforth will be thy bird.

--George Macdonald.

G.o.d KEEPS HIS OWN

I do not know whether my future lies Through calm or storm; Whether the way is strewn with broken ties, Or friends.h.i.+ps warm.

This much I know: Whate'er the pathway trod, All else unknown, I shall be guided safely on, for G.o.d Will keep his own.

Clouds may obscure the sky, and drenching rain Wear channels deep; And haggard want, with all her bitter train, Make angels weep.

And those I love the best, beneath the sod May sleep alone; But through it all I shall be led, for G.o.d Will keep his own.

--Sarah Knowles Bolton.

CARE THOU FOR ME

Care Thou for me! Let me not care!

Too weak am I, dear Lord, to bear The heavy burdens of the day; And oft I walk with craven feet Upon life's rough and toilsome way; How sweet to feel, how pa.s.sing sweet, Thy watchful presence everywhere!

Care Thou for me! Let me not care!

Care Thou for me! Why should I care, And looks of gloomy sadness wear, And fret because I cannot see (Thy wisdom doth ordain it so) The path thou hast marked out for me?

My Father's plan is best, I know, It will be light, sometime--somewhere-- Care thou for me! Why should I care?

Care Thou for me! Let me not care!

This, each new day, shall be my prayer; Thou, who canst read my inmost heart, Dost know I am exceeding frail; Both just and merciful thou art, Whose loving kindness ne'er shall fail; My human nature thou wilt spare; Care Thou for me! I will not care!

THE SPARROW

I am only a little sparrow, A bird of low degree; My life is of little value, But the dear Lord cares for me.

He gave me a coat of feathers; It is very plain, I know, With never a speck of crimson, For it was not made for show,

But it keeps me warm in winter, And it s.h.i.+elds me from the rain; Were it bordered with gold or purple Perhaps it would make me vain.

I have no barn or storehouse, I neither sow nor reap; G.o.d gives me a sparrow's portion, But never a seed to keep.

If my meal is sometimes scanty, Close picking makes it sweet; I have always enough to feed me, And "life is more than meat."

I know there are many sparrows, All over the world we are found; But our heavenly Father knoweth When one of us falls to the ground.

Though small, we are not forgotten; Though weak we are never afraid; For we know that the dear Lord keepeth The life of the creatures he made.

HE KNOWETH ALL

The twilight falls, the night is near, I fold my work away And kneel to One who bends to hear The story of the day.