God's Messenger

AGNES V. SINZ

Watching beside a bed of pain
Through weary hours of night,
The words of truth seemed all in vain,
And hopeless, drear, the fight.

Without, the night was dark and still,—
When, from a near-by tree
A mocking-bird began his trill,
And sang so wondrously!

That song of hope, and joy, and love,
Falling on list'ning ear,
Brought courage, lifting thought above
All sense of gloom and fear.

Thank God for songs that heal and bless,
And cheer us on our way;
That turn our woes to happiness,
Our darkness into day.

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