THE bird that soars on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
And she that doth most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest.
In lark and nightingale we see
What honor hath humility.
When Mary chose the better part,
She meekly sat at Jesu’s feet;
And Lydia’s gently opened heart
Was made for God’s own temple meet;
Fairest and best adorned is she
Whose clothing is humility.
The saint that wears heaven’s brightest crown,
In humble adoration bends;
The weight of glory bows him down
Then most, when most his soul ascends.
Nearest the throne must ever be
The footstool of humility.