Little birds in coats of brown,
Sing with bursting throats,
Filling wood and plain and town
With their ringing notes.
Merry songs from bush and tree,
And from skies above,
Tell of bird-life glad and free,
And the Father’s love.
Many little birds we see,
Singing glad and gay,
Kept from want and sorrow free,
Cared for every day.
Kept oy God, they fly around,
Singing as they go;
For should one fail to the ground,
He would surely know.
Clothed in feathers trim and neat,
Given a voice to sing,
Water cool and food to eat,
God sends everything.
So the birds can soar above,
Undisturbed by care,
Trusting in the Father’s love,
Singing everywhere.
Christ has greater love for you
Than a little bird;
How He died and proved it true,
You have often heard.
Do you, like the birdies small,
Spend your happy days
Making life a glad sweet song,
Filled with joy and praise?
May you like each happy bird,
Tiny though you be,
Let your song be ever heard—
“Jesus died for me.”
“Sing unto the Lord, bless His name; show forth His salvation from day to day.” Ps. 96:2.
ML 11/29/1903