warbles trust and piety...

The birds are particularly cacophonous this morning and I had just made a note of it when I found in my daily devotions this entry for May 14th in "Day Unto Day" a Unitarian devotional from 1873.

"Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Ye are of more value than many sparrows. — Luke xii. 6, 7

See, Christ makes the birds our masters and teachers! So that a feeble sparrow, to our great and perpetual shame, stands in the gospel as a doctor and preacher to the wisest of men. — Martin Luther.

Hark to Nature's lesson, given
By the blessed birds of heaven!
Every bush and tufted tree
Warbles trust and piety:
Mortals, banish doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.
Heber

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they ? —Matt. vi. 26."

Blessings

what is this that stirs within...

This poem from the quite wonderful minister in Philadelphia, William Henry Furness...














"THE SOUL
What is this that stirs within,
Loving goodness, hating sin,
Always craving to be blest,
Finding here below no rest?

Nought that charms the ear or eye
Can its hunger satisfy;
Active, restless, it would pierce
Through the outward universe.

What is it? and whither? whence?
This unsleeping, secret sense,
Longing for its rest and food
In some hidden, untried good?

'T is the soul! Mysterious name!
Him it seeks from whom it came;
It would, Mighty God, like thee,
Holy, holy, holy be!"

blessings

see all things as they are...

I often turn, in my morning devotions, to William Henry Furness' collection of prayers, "Domestic Worship." I find them especially valuable during those times when my prayer life is a little...dry. This, the conclusion to a morning prayer...(See here or search this blog for Furness for much more)

"Grant, O our Father, that this day, whether it be a day of gladness or of sorrow, may be spent acceptably to Thee, and profitably to ourselves. Sanctify to our best good whatever trials it may bring, and may thoughts of thy love heighten all its enjoyments. As we have eyes to see, let us not look idly and in vain upon the great spectacle of life, but from all its changes may we draw wisdom and strength, and see all things as they are, and neglect nothing that is important, and magnify nothing that is trifling. Through all events, thy spirit is for ever teaching lessons of heavenly import. As we have ears to hear, may we take heed how we hear. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory for ever. Amen."

Blessings

I had not thought him mortal...

John Emery Abbot, Minister at Salem, has often been excerpted in these pages. His piety, and his longtime illness and early death made him much loved and remembered. This recollection and tribute from his friend Henry Ware Jr. in his autobiographical poem, "My Dream of Life"







"I had not thought him mortal. For he seemed
So fitted for some chosen work on earth,
That, in my rash fatuity, I thought,
God cannot spare him from this suffering sphere;
Life shall be long to him, and crowned at length,
In the calm evening of a gray old age,
With heaven's bright chaplet of successful toil,
And earth's of reverend honor. So I dreamed;
And all my future projects, plans, and hopes
Twined with his presence..........
Tell me, you that can,
The colored language that shall paint his soul.
Give me the words, that I may draw him true,
And lovely as he was to those he loved.
Gentleness sat upon his even brow,
And from his eye beamed meek benignity;
While its peculiar, almost tearful gaze,
Went to the soul of all it fell upon.
If we might think some spirit, purified
From evil stains, robed once again in flesh,
And sent on messages of love to men,
Such we might deem my friend; so pure; so calm;
So unregardful of the petty cares
And small impertinences that annoy
All other men; so thoughtless of himself;
So bent on others' good; so seemingly
Unconscious of the tempting things of earth,
And musing ever on some purer scenes.
How quietly, yet forcibly, he stood!
Humble, yet bold; not eloquent, indeed,
But something better; winning, clear, and sweet;
Where his fond flock looked up to hear and learn.
No thunder from his voice, and from his eye
No lightning; but the gentle breath of spring
Recalling flowers to life,—the summer shower
Softly refreshing the luxuriant herb, —
The placid sun, whose penetrating beams,
Steadfast and gradual, lead the season on,—
The quiet dew, that nourishes unseen, —
These are the holy images that tell
The style and efficacy of his work;
While from the sacred rostrum he came down
To cheer the humble, and reclaim the bad,
And as a friend, from house to house to spread
Improvement, consolation, joy, reproof,
And turn his parish walks to walks of heaven.

Blessings

the practice of theories...

This from an early Journal of Bronson Alcott (April 28th, 1834...

"Here I am, removed from the third to the fourth story-blessed at last with my one little window fronting the City Library and the Athenaeum, with a bed, a trunk for my clothes, a wash-stand, two chairs, and my books. On these I am to feed and content myself during the summer.
Well, it matters little, after all, what surrounds us, how few are the things in which we feel a property and to which we attach ourselves, if the mind have wherewith to feed and the heart to comfort itself. Man can live on his own faith is his faith be fastened on Love and Wisdom. 'Tis not necessary that external goods should enter into the supply. Wiser is he who, in the absence of these, retreats into his own spirit and, in the abstractions of contemplation, and the practice of theories, lives out the delights of the inner life, triumphing over space and time by the activity of his own thought!

Blessings

small fields...

Best advice I have heard in a long time. This from Virgil via Bronson Alcott in his "Tablets."

"Commend large fields, but cultivate small ones."

Blessings

our petty selves...

This from Henry David Thoreau from a letter to Harrison Blake and collected in the volume, "Letters to a Spiritual Seeker."

"If for a moment we make way with our petty selves, wish no ill to anything, apprehend no ill, cease to be but as the crystal which reflects a ray,-what shall we not reflect! What a universe will appear crystallized and radiant around us!"

Blessings