794
P. M.
Behold the fowls of the air.
Matt. 6:26.
The child leans on its parent’s breast,
Leaves there its cares, and is at rest;
The bird sits singing by his nest,
And tells aloud
His trust in God, and so is blest
’Neath every cloud.
2 He has no store, he sows no seed;
Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed;
By flowing stream or grassy mead,
He sings to shame
Men, who forget, in fear of need,
A Father’s name.
3 The heart that trusts for ever sings,
And feels as light as it had wings;
A well of peace within it springs:
Come good or ill,
Whate’er to-day, to-morrow brings,
It is his will!
I. Williams.