His heart was full of happiness,
And this it was that drew
Praise to his Maker, in the way,

The only way, he knew.

It seemed as though he understood
The words he just had heard,

As if he felt they suited him,
Though but a little bird.

The Rector’s finger lifted up,
Kept all the children still,
Their eyes uplifted to the bird

Singing with open bill.

They scarcely breathed, lest they should

One note of that sweet strain;
And Robin scarcely paused before
He took it up again,

Now, when he ceased, the Rector thought

That he would say a word;
For Robin’s tale had in his breast
A strong emotion stirred,

“Children,’ said he, “that little voice

A lesson should have taught:
It seems to me the Robin’s song
Is with instruction fraught.

|

“He was, no doubt, in great distress;
Deep snow was all around;
He might have starved, but coming here,
Both food and shelter found,

“Seek God, my children, and when times
Of storm and trouble come,
He'll guide you as He did the bird,
And safely lead you home.

“ Another lesson we may learn
From those sweet notes we heard,
That God has given voice of praise
To that unconscious bird;

“But unto us His love bestows
A far more glorious gift,
For we have reason, and our souls,
As well as voice, can lift.”

The Rector paused, for now rang forth
The merry Christmas chime,

And warned them al] that it was near
The usual service-time,

And we must close the Robin's tale:
"T will be a blessed thing
Should it have taught but one young voice

To praise as well as sing.
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