ST.
FRANCIS AND THE BIRDS
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ST.
FRANCIS preached a sermon once,
Not to dominie nor dunce,
Prince nor pauper,—to the birds
He addressed his loving words.
Flocking in from far and near
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5 |
One
and all kept still to hear,
Robin, vireo, and wren
Sitting mute like decent men;
Tanager in scarlet coat,
Golden-wing and ruby-throat,
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Bobolink
and chickadee,
Like children good as good could be.
From the catbird not a squawk,
Not a whistle from the hawk,
From the raven not a croak;
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15 |
| Not
a parrot cracked a joke.
Even the outrageous jay
Sat without a word to say,
And the oriole and thrush
Forced their golden throats to hush.
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Grosbeak, meadow-lark, and quail
Let their sliding woodnotes fail,
While the lonely whippoorwill
Ceased his grieving from the hill.
And the whitethroat from the wild
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With
his music undefiled,
Even he put singing by
For the greater mystery,—
Some new phrase of being’s lore
He had never heard before,
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30 |
Which
might turn his plaintive fall
Into triumph after all.
There they waited all intent
For the word the Lord had sent,
Hearing good St. Francis tell
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35 |
| How
life’s song of joy befell;
How they each must bear a part
In the chorus of the heart,
Keeping harmony alive,
Helping rapture to survive;
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40 |
For if any voice were dumb
Their Lord’s Kingdom could not come,
And the world must pass away
In a wreck at Judgment Day.
As he finished every tree
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45 |
Sounded
like the Litany
When the people make response.
For the bird folk all at once,
With new reason to be glad
Such as they had never had,
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50 |
Lifted
up with one accord
Heart and voice to praise the Lord.
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