Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1862-05-02


ThonprInn Ti1ne.
Tho following beautiful pnsalfa odsuf, in
q SERMON recehily psoathedby lIsary Ward
Beecher:
There ip something even more touching
than this. II Is the Eight q birds. All
summer they have filed the woods. They
sing from the trees. They fiaa iton thick
cts and weed mufied fences. as IN onr wand
erings we scale them. They kihe In the
air. They wake Us with their matins---
They chant vespers with glorious diacord-
ance Of sweet melody. They &c across the
lawn, rise and fall on the swinging twie,
or rock 70 the wind on their pial perch.
But after August they become mute, and
in October days they begin 20 socede from
the dwelling. No mors twitteFing wrens;
no more circling swallowsi no moro gFotes-
que bobolinks; no moro larks, singing as II
they were heartbroken. They begin now
to come in troops in the distant field. At
sunset the pasture Is full Of nocks Of huud-
reds and thousands. At morning they are
gone. And every day brings lie fealhery
caravan. Every day they pass on. ~
Long hocks Of fowl silently move far up
against the sky, and always going away
from the North. Az evening the weary
string Of water fowls, flying low, and visit
fol Of some pond for rest and food fill the
air with hoarse trumpeting and clangory--
They arc going, the last are going. Win
ter IS behind them; summer Is before them;
and We are left. The season is bereft.---
Light is short; darkness Is long. Flowers
are sunken 10 rest. The birds have flown
away, Winter, Ointsr, WINTER is upon the
earth
At last come the December days. Tho
shortest is reached. Then few stand
stand alike. Then the solar blaze creeps
forward minute in tho evening. A little
more again more, till half hours ring around
the horrison--till hours are strung upon tho
days--t;ll the earth comes back--till ponds
unlock themselves. The forests grow pur-
pie twigged. The great winds sigh and
rage. March busters aud smiles by turns
"a giant that now is cross, and now kind.
The calves begin to come. Lambs bleat,--
The warm hills are plowed. At last the
nights are without FROST
At length we wake, some unexpected
morning, and the blue birds call is in the
tree. We throw up tho sash. The sun
lies flush on all the landscape. There is
smile Of soil and leaf in the air. The pop.
lar buds are fragrant as balm. The air
is warm aud moist. The birds are surely
here; they answer each other; the sparrow,
the blue bird, the robin, and, afar off on
the edges ofthe swamp, the harsh twangiDg
notes Of the blackbird. 1t is spring It Is
the time Of the singing of the birds No
body forgets the wild thrill Of the heart at
the first sound Of birds in the spring.
Oh, with what sense Of emancipation
do we hear the birds sing again. God sends
his cboirs to sing over night and death for
us. Winter, that buried all, is herself put
away. Death is swallowed up in victory,
and nature, chants the requiem Of the past,
and tho enjoy of the future. Now, days
shall grow longer and warmer. Now in
dustry shall move freely, Now, flowers
shall come up. Seed shall be sown.-
Doors and windows shall stand open all day
long. Around the barn the hens shall cack-
10 and crow. Children shout. Spring has
come; and all things rejoice attheir release.
No more inhospitable snow; DO more bright
cold. All is promise. Men go forth with
seed, and roots, and scions. The orchard,
and garden, and field arc full Of lifc1
The winter is past, the rain is over and
gone; the flowers appear on the earth the
lime of the singing of birds is come, and
the voice Of the turtle is heard in our
land.
Is this, now, mere ornamental passage Of
scripturel Scripture has no passages that
are nero ornaments. Things ornamental
there are in it, but they carry marrow and
meat. Unlike all other literature, Script
ure never merely decorates. If there is .
figure, it is always for some errand Of moral
meaning. There is no descriptions sake.
There is poetry for mere esthetical pleas
ure. There is always profit withal.
Nature, then, teaches that to every sea-
son of trouble, and overthrow, there comes
resurrection. In the deepest January of
the year there is nerve that runs forward
to June. Life is never extnguisbed. That
which seems 10 be death, reaches forward
and touches that which is vital.