Against A Thorn
Once I heard a song of sweetness
As it cleft the morning air,
Sounding in its blest completeness
Like a tender pleading prayer.
And I sought to find the singer,
Whence this wondrous song was borne,
Then I found a bird sore wounded,
Pinioned by a cruel thorn.
I have seen a soul in sadness,
While its wings with pain were furled;
Giving hope and cheer and gladness,
That should bless a weeping world.
And I knw that life of sweetness,
Was of pain and sorrow borne;
And a stricken soul was singing,
With its heart against a thorn.