Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1893-07-01

1
in your hearts, to the Lord" Songs
like Moses sang after the tragedy of
the Red sea. Sdbgs like Deborah and
BaralS sang Mt the overthrow of Sisera.
Songs like Isaiah heard the redeemed
sing as they came to Zion.
Further, remark in regard to the
song OF birds, that 1t Is trustful and
without any fear of what may yet
come. VIII you tell me how it is posi-
BILE for that wren, that sparrow, that
chickadce, to sing so sweetly when
they may at any time be bounced on
by hawk and torn wing from wing?
There are cruel beaks in thiclSet and
sky ready to STAY 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
breakfast or dinner or supper. Would
|
the day before vocalizing? Besides
that the hunters are abroad. Bang!
goes gun in one direction. Bang goes
n gun in another direction. The song
will attract the shot and add to the
peril. Beside that, yonder is u thunder
cloud and there may be hurricane and
hail to be let loose, and what then
will become of you, the poor
warbler? Besides that, winter will
come, and it may he smitten down be-
fore it gets to the tropics. Have You
never seen the snow strcwn with
the birds belated in their migration?
The titmouse 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 etance nj 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 it sings. and il
is truthful song. The bird that has
it the hardest, sings the sweetest. The
lark from the shape of her claws may
not perch on u tree. In the grass her
nest is exposed to every hoof that
passes. One of the poorest shelters OF
all the earth is the lark's nest. If she
sing ut all. You will expect her to rem
der the saddest of threnodies. No. no.
She sings an hour exultingly without
pause and mounting 5000 feet without
losing a note. Would God we all might
learn the lesson. Whatever perils,
whatever bereavements, whatever trials
are vet to come. sing, sing with all
your heart and sing with all your
lungs. If 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 dis
aster have spent their fury, You will
never sing ut all.
Further, in the sky galleries. there
are songs adapted to all moods. The
meadow lark is mournful. and the gold
finch JOYOUS, and the grosbeak pro-
longed of note. But the libretto of ma
ture is voluminous. Are you sad? You
can hear from the bowers the echo OF
your grief. Are you glad? You can
hear an echo of your happiness. Are
you thoughtful? You can hear that
which will plunge you into deeper pro
found. Are You weary? You may
catch restful air. So the songs OF
birds are administrative in all circum-
stances. And we would do well to
have a hymnology for all changes OF
condition. You may sing your woes
into peace and rouse your joys into
greater attitudes. Upon every condi-
ton of body and soul, let us try the
power of song. The multitudinous ut
terances of grove and orchard and gar
den and forest suggest most delightful
possibilities.
Further, notice. that the song of
birds is n family song. Even those of the
feathered throngs which have no song
| ut all, make what utterances they do
in sounds of their own family of birds.
The boot of the owl, the clatter of the
magpie, the crow of the chanticleer,
the drumming of the grouse, the laugh
of the loon in the Adirondacks, the
caclSle of the hen, the scream of the
eagle, the croak of the raven, are
sounds belonging to each particular
family; but when you come to those
which have real songs, how suggestive
that it is n family song. All the sky
larlxs, all the nightingales, all the gold
finches, all the blackbirds, all the
cocloos, prefer the song of their own
family, and never sing anything else.
So the most deeply impressive songs we
ever sing are family songs. They have
come down from generation to genera
ton. You were sung to sleep in your
infancy and childhood by songs that
will sing in your soul forever. Where
was it, my brother or sister, that you
| hoo.d tho family sonU-on the banks