“Prove all things, hold fast that which Is good.” (1 Thou. vs. 21.)
With pleasure I mark how the fowl takes her food,
With instinct, by God, her Creator, endued;
Though greedy for grain, yet on guard against hurt,
She picks up the seed and she shakes off the dirt.
The grain she rejects not because of the grit,
But, cleansing it first, she disdains not a bit;
The dirt she refuses, but freely she feeds
On any choice morsels or nourishing seeds.
What careful discretion in her do I see!
Bat am I as wise in my feeding as she?
Know I how to gather the Truth’s precious seed,
For strength, for refreshment, and grace in my need?
The pure, incorruptible, seed of the Word,
By which I have life, and with blessing have heard,
By God has been given the soul to sustain,
And, coming from Him, it is all golden grain.
But, may-be, the servant who scatters the seed,
To keep it in pureness has not taken heed;
And so, with the grain, he may mingle some dirt,
Which, if I should swallow, would do me some hurt.
Then, what shall I do? Why, take heed what I hear,
The grain from the grit and the gravel keep clear;
Thus, feed on the food which the Lord doth provide,
And cast all the rubbish and refuse aside.
So shall I use rightly my circumcis’d ear,
While watching my heart as to how I should hear;
All things must I prove, but the good only hold,
And treasure the Truth that’s more precious than gold.
T.