BIRD LEGEND AND LIFE 



Her grandson, playing at marbles, stopped. 



And, cruel in sport as boys will be. 

 Tossed a stone at the bird, who hopped 



From bough to bough in the apple tree. 



"Nay!" said the grandmother; "have you not heard, 

 My poor, bad boy, of the fiery pit. 

 And how, drop by drop, this merciful bird 

 Carries the water that quenches it? 



"He brings cool dew in his little bill. 

 And lets it faU on the souls of sin; 

 You can s€e the mark on his red breast still. 

 Of fires that scorch as he drops it in. 



"My poor bron rhuddyn! My breast-burned bird, 



Singing so sweetly from limb to limb I 

 Very dear to the heart of our Lord 

 Is he who pities the lost like him!" 



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Amen!" I said to the beautiful myth; 



"Sing, bird of God, in my heart as well; 

 Each good thought is a drop wherewith 

 To cool and lessen the fires of hell." 



Prayers of love like raindrops fall. 



Tears of pity are cooling dew; 

 And dear to the heart of our Lord are all 



Who suffer like Him in the good they do. 



Whittiek. 

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