The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1893-06-28
Further, notice in The song of birds

|
temple aquake with harmonies, would
not catch up one melody. From the
time that the first birds throat was
fashioned on the banks of the Gihon
and Hiddekel until to-day on the Hud-
son or Rhine, the winged creature has
learned nothing from the human race
in the way of carol or anthem. The
feathered songsters learned all their
music direct from God. He gave them
the art in a nest of straw or moss or
sticks, and taught them how to lift
that song into the higher heavens and
sprinkle the earth with its dulcet en-
chantments. God-fashioned, God
tuned, God-launched, God-lifted mu-
sic! And there is kind of
music that the Lord only can impart
to you, my hearer. There have been de-
PRAYED, reprobate and blasphemous
souls which could sing till great audi
toriums were in raptures. There have
been soloists and bassos and baritones
and sopranos whose brilliancy in con-
cert halls has not been more famous
than their debaucheries. But there is
a kind of song, which, like the song of
birds, is divinely fashioned. Songs OF
pardon. Songs of divine comfort.
Songs of worship. 'Songs in the
night" like those which David and
Job mentioned. Songs full of faith
and tenderness and prayer like those
which the Christian mother sings over
the sick cradle. Songs of broken
heart being healed. Songs of the dying
flashed upon by opening portals of
amethysts. Songs like that which
Paul commended to the Colossians,
when he said: "Admonish one another
in psalms and hymns and spiritual
songs, singing with grace in your
hearts to the Lord" Songs like Moses
sang after the tragedy of the Red sea.
Songs like Deborah and Barak sang at
the overthrow of Sisera. Songs like
Isaiah heard the redeemed sing as they
came to Zion. o, God, teach us that
kind of song which Thou only canst
teach, and help us to sing it on earth
and sing it in Heaven. 1t was the
highest result of sweet sound when
under the playing of Paganini, one
auditor exclaimed reverently, 30,
Godr' and another sobbed out, 30,
Christr'
Further, remark in regard to the
song of the birds, that it is trustful,
and without any fear Of what may yet
come, win you tell me how it is pos
sible for that wren, that sparrow, that
chickadee, to sing so sweetly when they
may any time be pounced on by hawk
and torn wing from wing? There are
cruel beaks in thicket and in sky ready
to slay the song birds. Herods on the
wing. Modocs of the sky. Assassins
armed with iron claw. Murderers of
song floating up and down the heavens.
How can the birds sing amid such
perils? Beside that, how is the bird
sure to get its food? Millions of birds
have been starved. Yet it sings in the
dawn without any certainty of break
fast or dinner or supper. Would it not
be better to gather its food for the day
before vocalizing? Beside that, the
hunters are abroad. Bang! goes a gun
in one direction. The song will attract
the shot and add to the peril. Beside
that, t,yonder is thunder cloud and there
may be hurricane and hail to be let
loose, and what then will become of
you poor warbler2 Beside that, winter
will come, and it may be smitten down
before it gets to the tropics. Have you
never seen the snow strewn with the
birds belated in their migration? The
tjtmouse mingles its voice with the
snow storms, as Emerson describes the
little thing he found in tempestuous
January:
Here was this atom In full breath
Hurting defiance at vast death;
This scrap OF valor Just for play
Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray
For every bird thousand perils and
disasters lowering and sweeping round
and round. Yet there IL sings, and il
is trustful song. The bird that has
IL the hardest sings the sweetest. The
lark, from the shape of her claws, may
not perch on tree. In the grass her
nest is exposed TO every hoof that
passes. One of the poorest shelters of
all the earth is tha lark's nest. II she
sings at all, you will expect her to rem
der the saddest of threnodies. No, no.
She sings exultingly an hour without
pause and mounting three thousand
feet without losing a note. Would
God we all might learn the lesson.
Whatever perils, whatever bereave-
ments, whatever trials are yet to come,
sing, sing with all your heart and sing
with all your lungs II you wait until
all the hawks OF trouble have folded
their wings and all the hunters Of hate
have unloaded their guns and all the
hurricanes Of disaster have spent their
fury, you will never sing at all. David
the pursued of Absalom, and the be-
trayed Of Ahithopel, and the de-
pleted of "sores that ran in the night"
presents us the best songs of the
Bible. John Milton, not able to see
his hand before his face, sings
for us the most famous poem of all
literature, and some of the most cheer
full people have ever met have been
Christian people under physical, or do
mestic, or public torment. The songs
OF Charles Wesley, which we now
calmly sing in church, were composed
by him between mobs.
Further, in the sky galleries, there
are songs adopted to all moods. The
meadow lark is mournful, and the
goldfnch joyous, and the grosbeak
prolonged OF note. But the hbretto Of