<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

My Chickadee<\/strong><\/h5>\n

by Chelsea Burden<\/em><\/p>\n

I saw him on a swaying branch,
\nAnd heard him through the frosty air,
\nDelighting in his child-like mirth,
\nThat cheerful bird without a care.
\nHe hopped, and chirped with playful glee,
\nThe happy, humble chickadee!<\/p>\n

His plump and friendly form and face,
\nLooked so contented as he played,
\nUnheeding all that wind and cold,
\nShould ever make a bird afraid!
\nHe seemed to find his joy and rest,
\nComplete within his winter nest.<\/p>\n

And as he sang his cheery song,
\nHis friends awakened to the note;
\nThat joyous tune of banished care
\nArose from ev’ry feathered throat,
\nAnd in the bush beside the wall,
\nI watched them hop, and chirp and call.<\/p>\n

I watched, and thought how nice it was,
\nThat in the winter’s still delight,
\nA note of praise should yet arise
\nFrom all the silent meadows white.
\nSuch unpretending, humble song,
\nTo cheer the world the winter long.<\/p>\n

O, cheerful folk to have such pluck
\nTo stay when other birds are flown,
\nUpon the icy branch to climb,
\nA frosty and majestic throne!
\nAnd through the cold their song to sing,
\nThe joyous minstrels of the King!<\/p>\n

Not pretty birds with thrush-like song,
\nWho gain our eye and ear with ease,
\nWhose form and hues are bright and fair,
\nAnd notes are music made to please;
\nYet in my bush the winter long
\nThey sing their merry playful song!<\/p>\n

‘Tis so delicious as I stand
\nAnd feel the chilling icy air,
\nTo watch their play and hear their song,
\nAnd know their hearts devoid of care!
\nIt seems to make the world bright,
\nWith such a pure and fresh delight.<\/p>\n

And somehow, as I think it o’er,
\nI feel a pang of inward shame,
\nFor have I not more cause than they
\nMy Father’s mercy to proclaim?
\nAnd have I not a God to praise,
\nA King to worship all my days?<\/p>\n

O! would that I could be so bright
\nWhen frost and wind assail my plan!
\nThat such a brave, contented heart
\nWere given me and fellow-man!
\nThen might I sing with purer lays
\nMy Master’s great and worthy praise!<\/p>\n

Then might my notes be just as pure,
\nAnd might my song be just as free!
\nA bright reminder in the snow
\nOf all that has been given me!
\nThen might I find my joy and rest,
\nComplete within my winter nest!<\/p>\n

And others as they passed that way,
\nWould stop as I to mark the sight,
\nAnd then with braver heart to face,
\nThe trials of their winter’s night!
\nThus let my heart, O Saviour, be
\nAs cheerful as my chickadee!<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u00a9 Chelsea Burden and www.sawpublishing.com, 2016. Unauthorized use and\/or duplication of this material without express and written permission this site’s author and\/or owner is strictly prohibited.<\/p>\n

Top photo credit: Bob Hines\u00a0United States Fish and Wildlife Service [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons<\/p>\n

Bottom photo credit: Louis Agassiz Fuertes (1874-1927) artist, Harriman Alaska Expedition (1899), [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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