It is the time when angels are abroad
Upon their work of love and peace to men,—
Commissioned from the dazzling throne of God,
They come to earth as joyfully as when
The tidings ran o’er mountain and
o’er glen,
“A son is born, a Saviour and a King,”—
For they have tidings glorious as then,
Since tokens from our risen Lord they bring,
That life has been secured, and death has lost its
sting.
The twilight deepens; o’er the distant hill
A veil is spread of soft and misty grey;
And from the lake, so beautiful and still,
The images of sunset fade away;
The twinkling stars come forth in bright
array,
Which shunned the splendor of the noontide glare,—
A holy calm succeeds the bustling day.
And gentle voices stealing through the air,
Proclaim to hearts subdued the hour of grateful prayer.
Hark! it is the robin crying,
He has heard the voice of Spring;
From the woods the crow is flying,
And the jay is on the wing.
Slowly now the sun is ranging
Each day nearer to the west;
All things tell the year is changing,
Nature wakens from her rest.
Lower sink the snow-drifts daily,
Half the pasture lands are bare;
And the little streams leap gayly
From their chains to breathe the air.
While the barren earth rejoices,
Care-worn mortal, come away,—
Listen to the pleasant voices
Of the resurrection day.
Dost thou understand the token?
Nature should not teach in vain
What its gracious Lord hath spoken—
That the dead shall live again!
Two robins came in early Spring,—
When Winter’s reign was o’er;
And every morn I heard them sing
Just by our cottage door.
They built their nest of moss and hay
Within a maple-tree,—
And thither every pleasant day,
I went to hear and see.
At first whene’er I came they flew,
Or eyed me in alarm;
But soon my step familiar grew,
I never did them harm.
One day a louder song I heard,
With eager cries for food;
And then I helped the mother-bird
To still her hungry brood.
I always seemed a welcome guest;
Both old and young I fed,
Then settling down beneath the nest,
Some pleasant book I read.
I watched them fondly day by day,
Until their wings were grown;
When suddenly they flew away,
And left me all alone.
The bitter tears began to start,
And full of sad regret
I wondered in my simple heart,
If birds could thus forget!
Ah! many summers have returned,
And many changes wrought,
Since I the mournful lesson learned,
In early childhood taught.
