_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, and plenty of play; In the earth they dig their bills deep And work well though they do not heap; Then to play in the air they are not loath, 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 thy birds were lost.

But I consider further, and find A hungry bird has a free mind; He is hungry to-day, 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.

Thy 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 God's will With driblets from his own still.

But next I see, in my endeavour, Thy birds here do not live for ever; 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 thy 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 the sparrow in high grace.

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

THE WIND OF THE WORLD.

Chained is the Spring. The Night-wind bold Blows over the hard earth; Time is not more confused and cold, Nor keeps more wintry mirth.

Yet blow, and roll the world about-- Blow, Time, blow, winter's Wind! Through chinks of time heaven peepeth out, And Spring the frost behind.

SABBATH BELLS.

Oh holy Sabbath bells, Ye have a pleasant voice! Through all the land your music swells, And man with one commandment tells To rest and to rejoice.

As birds rejoice to flee From dark and stormy skies To brighter lands beyond the sea Where skies are calm, and wings are free To wander and to rise;

As thirsty travellers sing, Through desert paths that pass, To hear the welcome waters spring, And see, beyond the spray they fling Tall trees and waving grass;

So we rejoice to know Your melody begun; For when our paths are parched below Ye tell us where green pastures glow And living waters run.

LONDON, December 15, 1840.

FIGHTING.

Here is a temple strangely wrought: Within it I can see Two spirits of a diverse thought Contend for mastery.

One is an angel fair and bright, Adown the aisle comes he, Adown the aisle in raiment white, A creature fair to see.

The other wears an evil mien, And he hath doubtless slipt, A fearful being dark and lean, Up from the mouldy crypt.

* * * * *

Is that the roof that grows so black? Did some one call my name? Was it the bursting thunder crack That filled this place with flame?

I move--I wake from out my sleep: Some one hath victor been! I see two radiant pinions sweep, And I am borne between.

Beneath the clouds that under roll An upturned face I see-- A dead man's face, but, ah, the soul Was right well known to me!

A man's dead face! Away I haste Through regions calm and fair: Go vanquish sin, and thou shall taste The same celestial air.