The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1883-05-05

II. ldluhk6
taTy on some passages in SolOmOnt
Song.
Subject of the sermon: Bird Anthem
TEXT-SOlOmOn's Song: ii; 1S; "Tht
time of the singing of birds has come.
For many years L have wanted t.
preach on this Vernal theme, but never
could decide what Sabbath to choose.
Once or twice have been ready to speab
of the lessons of the sprlngtide, bu
have awakened on Sabbath morning t.
find the ground covered with frost.
Within the past few weeks l have been
in Louisiana and Canada. found tn,
one covered with rOses and in the Other
l was struck with hail storm. Bul
the almanac announces that twO-thirds
of the season called spring has already
past, and 50 l think my theme apprOpTl
ate. In mIdwiAter wnen God had lalu
out all nature in a shTOud of snow ant
coffin of crystal, L preached her funera
sermon from the text i'll the Psalms,
"WhO can stand before His cOldI" Blu,
now, when we put our finger on tht
wrist of the trees and lind them pulsas
ing anew in buds and leaves, the sOutI
winds blow their resurrection trumpet
in our gardens and orchards, shall NO,
preach sermon about springp Chris
loved to talk about the natural wOrlu
He pressed lily into his sermon. liz
caught the echo of birds song in OH,
of his paragraphs. The wise men Of tn,
East brought their gold and franklin
cens6 to the feet OF Christ, and so let u.
throw down before Him all the bloom
and Tedolence of garden and orchard
In New Testament times Christ stOUpe
down and with His finger wrote o.
the ground" That Is what He is dom,
now, in letters OF Verdure and eaIl
flowers aud shrubs, still writing on tu
"A Ft4Is
says to the affrighJed child: That Is Tia
voice of God" In the radiance or the
brightest day of spring why not Say
to the child, All TINS ID Gods smllet
and when OdOTS of the fruit blossom.
fill the air why not say, This 4.
Gods bTeathp" Poor children with bar,
feet and no mother with her needle I,
earn them shoes, have lOnged for TIN.
season to come. Farmers, their crib
almost empty and their cattle moan
fngly looking up to the hay lying IhIL
on the poles of the NOW, have AnXlOuSIy
waited for fresh pastures and the plOw
boys song, and the rattle of clevlse,
over the sod turned by glistening cOui
ters. lnYalldS, who with fOreheads
pressed against the WlndOWpane for long
months watched the cold storms shaking
off their white blossoms to the. grOuuG
and wrapped close their shawls as the5
heard the winds beat a dead marci
among the hills, have lOnged for til,
cheerful serenAde Of April or May DefOr,
their hOisted window and the seat Ill Tn,
afternoon ON the sunny porch, OF ID wal,
among the yiOlets after the dew ha
gone up from the grass. On! Yes, theT,
is universal delIghtl Rejoice, rejoice,
for the time of the singing of birds ha'
come. Winter, weeping and walling Il
the equinOctial storm, has fallen deal
at the feet of spring. Every tree branci
was a telegraph sending ahead lh,
news, writing on the air: Spring L.
cOmingl Spring is cOmlngl Often has
this pleasant season been driven back
Marching up the mountain side ever anU
anon it was defeated and hurled dOWh
the rocks. Yet marching up again i,
will plant its green standards on tht
tOpmOst cliff, led on by bands of music
in the tTeetOps, for the time of the sing
ing of birds has come. Now let plOWs
sharpen their cOulters and charge on TIT
tough GLOBE and harrOWS with iron teeth
chaW up the clOds, and sewers scatter
the seed and waters clap their hands i'll
gladness and the trees put bridal bios
SONS in their hair, and ponds, with
multitudinOus life, make the bOgs quake,
for the time of the singing of birds has
cOmel"
Learn first of all the goodness of God
Do you realize His mercy i'll the d0ml
nant color of the spring timer He might
have covered the field with dull brOwII
that would have depressed the nations
with melancholy, or made them Grim
son, till the vision would have wearied
with the intense blaze. Instead OF
that, to touch the eye with unweaTy
ing pleasure He strews the earth will
green, the color half way between the
blue and the red in that kindly mingling
proving His goodness. As sea monsters
struck by harpOOnS shove quickly away
at sea, so black winter clouds struck
through by lances of light swarm off the
heavens. Tree branches are pulling on
their'sleeves of VerduTe and roots their
boots of sod. Buds burst like harmless
bOmbshells, scattering aroma on the
fields. Joy of fishes in the water. Joy
of insects in the air. JOy'Of cattle in the
fields. Joy of wings i'll the sky. For
''the time of the singing of birds has
come" GraciOusl blessed God all this
sunshine thou didst shake from thy rolls,
all this verdure is only the track of Thy
feet, all this music thou dldst strike
from Thy harp. To-day at sunrise ma
ture went to morning prayers, reading
the 148th Psalm: Praise ye the Lord,
mountains and all hills, fruitful trees
and all cedarsP' Fowls in the yard,
hocks on the hill, insects dragging dew
from cups of hyacinth and jasmine
climbing over the stone wall, rivers
tossing gold in their hands, martens
coming back to the rafters of the barn
or becoming eavesdroppers to our house.
have you thanked God for his goodnessp
The wind thanks Him and huns its
praise among the tree branches
The birds thank Him and
for the drop of wafer they dip from the
brook fill all the sky with rOundelay.
The honeysuckles thank him and burn
incense all the day. The sea thanks him
with organ diapasOn of tempest You
will not be able to see one silent one
amid the winged performers. You will
not find one string snapped in the noun
tain oratorio. The human heart is the
only silent and broken instrument in
all this orchestra of earth, air and ocean.
Are we the only discOrd in the grand
march of the eternitlesp
Again. learn the wisdom of God. The