  By DAVID BUXTON. [During a gloomy November the singing of a bird was heard daily in Regent’s Park, London; beginning before daylight and continuing until sunset.] Welcome and glad, this dim November morning, The lone bird singing from a leafless tree, Cheering the chilly world ere earliest dawning;— Nor is its cheery message missed by me. The bird’s sweet song is but the Father’s teaching; Gladness and joy He sends for every hour— Sends both, in answer to true heart’s beseeching, Whether the sun is bright or tempests lower. Dark night hath stars; dark cloud its “silver lining;” Something of sunshine lightens darkest days; Happy the heart in trust and faith divining God’s light and leading through life’s dreariest ways. So would I sing, and sing like thee, till silence Shall tell that we have passed beyond the flood— Thou, to sing on in some isle far-distant hence, I, farther still, at home, in heaven, with God. decorative line
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